


Until Forever

by The_Darling_Writer



Series: Until Forever [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adopted Siblings, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Arkenstone - Freeform, Bows & Arrows, Broken Bones, Corset, Courtship, Death, Destruction, Drama, Dwarf Courting, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Goblins, Gold Sickness, Graphic Descriptions of Basically Everything, Graphic descriptions, Hair Braiding, Half-breeds, Hobbits, Humans, Humor, Imprisonment, Laketown, M/M, Mirkwood, Night Terrors, Orcs, Rivendell | Imladris, Romance, Sarcasm, Sass, Scars, Slow Build, Swords, The One - Freeform, The Shire, Training, True Love, Under Bust Corset, War, Wargs, Wizards, Wounds, axes, bathing in the river, battles, dragon - Freeform, dragon fire, relationships, stiches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-25 07:25:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 47
Words: 93,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7523785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Darling_Writer/pseuds/The_Darling_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asha Brystowe diSorvina has spent years trying to escape from her dark past, hiding a dangerous secret that could mean her banishment - or death. She lives as a simple herbalist within the Shire and rarely travels farther than her woods or the Market Place. But her contentment is disturbed by the Wizard Gandalf - a Wizard who shares her past, if only slightly - and a company of Dwarves when they turn up on her doorstep, ready to whisk her, and her adoptive brother Bilbo Baggins, on an adventure. </p><p>Kili Durin knows he must help protect his people and restore them to their rightful place in Erebor. He expected it to be a matter easily taken care of, never mind the Dragon. He did not expect the small lass who joined the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, nor did he expect to be attracted to the young woman. </p><p>For Asha and Kili, the thought of their One's has always been kept at a distance. Asha from necessity; Kili due to a lack of hope. But once it's realized, it can not be denied. Asha must fight her very being, and Kili must fight to keep her - even if it means taking on the scars of the past, the fragility of the present, and the impossibility of the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Acknowledgments

To all lovers,  
As well as to lovers of epic tales.

And to the many folks who grace the lovely pages of AO3.

Acknowledgments

My dear friends, I appreciate and am grateful for your enduring support, careful reading, patience, love, and understanding. I know it is a strange thing for a twenty-two-year-old to be consumed with her own story, of a story, but you never show how strange you thought me to be.

A huge thanks go to everyone who helped me understand the Dwarvish language. I would add, though, that in all the various words and phrases of the several languages the reader will find herein - Dwarvish, Elvish, etc. - any errors in usage are entirely mine. Of course, the errors in English are mine as well.

 


	2. Chapter One - An Unexpected Freedom

Part One

Ambellshire, Middle Earth 2911

In the house on Ambellshire's Ridge, the outlaws were arguing again. Wakeful in her upstairs chamber, Asha Brystowe diSorvina sat silently in the moonlight. The Hunter's moon, full and diamond-bright, blazed over the dark, tree-covered hills. The men in the hall below were drunken and joyful. They had ridden out at sunset, her half-blooded brother at their head. They had returned hours later, clamoring as if they had conquered a kingdom.

Mayhaps they had.

The noise rose to a crescendo. Fergus, motionless at his place beside the door, swiveled his fine, dark ears back as if the shouting hurt him. Rhea lifted her pale, narrow head and gazed at her mistress.

"It's all right," Asha said soothingly. "They'll stop."

Someone whooped. "I win!" A man roared. She thought it was Nils. "Pay me, you luckless devils!"

Suddenly the shouting ceased. Treion had tired of the noise, at last, it seemed. The yelling did not resume.

Asha stretched her arms above her head. Her muscles ached.

She was young compared to the rest of her family, at a mere nineteen years of age, and when she stood beside her families tall, densely muscled frames, she appeared even slighter than she was. She was compact, with a small, heart-shaped face, and wide, innocent green eyes that darted between movements much like those of birds. Her rich, pale curls were the color of fresh milk or, when the sun was bright, the color of snow on the hillside during the winter months. She had skin that did not tan, no matter the time she spent out of doors; instead, it remained the same shade of pale china. She stood only an inch or so past three foot tall, but she appeared taller in the same way a dancer would, despite her half-brother's claims that her father had been a Dwarf.

In the chamber next to her own, her grandfather, oblivious to what was happening in his own home, snored. He, too, was drunk. He was constantly drunk now. He had started to drink before her mother's death, and since that event, a year ago New Year's Moon, he had kept a bottle of his favorite wine always near to his side. But his sickness - the falling, the tremors - had begun long before then. Nothing she knew of her mother's lore would help him. He refused the tonics she mixed for him.

On good days he was lucid. On bad ones, he marched through the house shouting incoherent orders, half naked, breathing wine fumes into the faces of those who had once obeyed him. They had no time for a sick old warrior. They were Treion's now.

A door opened, and someone shouted below. At first, she thought it was her brother, then she heard the rush of footsteps through the house. Booted feet came down the hall. The dogs came silently to their feet. Fergus faced the door, dark pelt erect. Rhea growled deep in her throat.

"Hush, now," Asha said softly. She moved to the window and peered through the gap between shutters. The clearing in front of the manor was ringed with armed men. Moonlight glinted off sword blades.

She backed from the window slowly, breath catching in her lungs.

The bow her mother had left her lay beneath her bed. She slipped it over her shoulders carefully, adding her quiver only as an afterthought. A fist hammered on the door of the chamber next to hers. Her grandfather yelled a stream of drunken curses. A quietly competent voice told him to be still. She waited for them to pound on her door as well, but they did not. She heard her Grandfather's plaintive voice and the sound of booted feet retreating down the stairway.

She opened her chamber door and gestured to her dogs. They went downstairs together. The hall was devoid of life, except for a bloodstained cat grooming in a corner. It raised its head to hiss at the dogs.

The front door was ajar. Through the opening, she saw Eden and Nils and the rest of her grandfather's men standing in the clearing, their weapons laying in a heap before them.

She looked for Treion among them, but she could not see his slight form among the outlaws. The Hunter's moon made the night bright as day. Her grandfather was barefoot, wearing only his night robe, and he stood near the center of the clearing, hands on his hips. His white hair was wild.

"Lia!" He called shakily to his dead daughter, her mother. "Lia, we have guests! Bring wine!"

Before him stood a tall, dark man. He said, "Do you know where your band of cutthroats went tonight, old man? To Amdur Leasha's farm. They stole the horses. They killed Amdur and his son, Garth. They set fire to the house and left everyone in it to burn."

His voice was deep, but it held a strange sort of insanity that made Asha's skin prickle. She had only seen him once before, and that at a distance, but she knew who he was.

Her grandfather said, whining a little, "I did not tell them to do that!"

"Did you not?" The lord of the land said. "It does not matter; it is done. And you must answer for it."

Asha knew the stories of the lords that lived in the land that surrounded their home on Ambleshire Ridge. Their strength from numbers, their startling generosity, and their terrible ferocity when defied. She put her hand flat on the door and pushed. It was stuck; it would not move. Her fingers trembled. 

Her grandfather leaned forward. "You should no speak to me so." He said, with a drunkard's mad dignity. "I saved your father's life in battle. He granted me this land." 

The lord nodded. "I know it. You have traded on that service for nearly forty years. Out of respect for my father, I will grant you one day's grace. But by sunset tomorrow, you and your kin must be gone from my domain." 

"What of my men?" Deman diSorvina demanded.

"They killed my people." The lord said coldly. "Their lives are forfeit." He looked at the encircled outlaws. "Which of you killed the farmer and his son?" No one spoke, but heads twitched. The lord leveled a finger. "You. Step forward." 

Eden obeyed. The other men moved from his side quickly. "Fidel, kill him." 

From where he stood beneath a copper bench, a slender, dark-haired archer lifted his bow and shot in one smooth movement. An arrow seemed to grow out of Eden's broad chest. His hand curled helplessly around the shaft, then he fell. 

Her grandfather crackled. "That for the gratitude of the lord." He genuflected mockingly toward the man standing before him. "Lia! Lia, hurry up! We are leaving. Asha! Come quickly! Our gracious liege is dispossessing us from our home!" He spat in the dirt. 

Asha shuddered and pushed the door with her shoulder. She nearly fell down the stairs as it swung open all in a rush. With Rhea andFergus at her sides, she descended the steps. The men all turned to look at her: her grandfather, the soldiers, the lord of the land, her brother's men. 

"Lia is gone, grandfather, you know this." She said. Turning, she faced the lord of the land. He was taller than she was, but this was not a hard thing to accomplish. The amber moonlight seemed to settle on his shoulders. But she was Lia diSorvina's daughter. She would not be owed, even my a lord. "My Lord." She said, and she was pleased to hear her voice emerge even. "As you can see, my grandfather drinks more than he should. It makes him foolish." 

The lords gaze seemed like a great weight. "Who are you?" 

"I am Asha Brystowe diSorvina. My mother was Lia diSorvina." 

Her grandfather said jauntily. "You were meant to marry her, boy!" He giggled. "Your father and I planned it all. But then he went mad. The mad Lord." He ran his hands through his white brush hair.

The lord frowned. "I remember. Your grandfather wrote me a letter four, no, five years ago. He wanted me to marry you." He looked at her oddly, a strange sheen shining in his dark eyes. "I thought you were younger." 

She remembered that letter. Her grandfather had sent it without telling her mother. When the old man had finally let the news slip, Lia diSorvina had been furious. 

 _Greedy thieving sot!_ She had yelled.  _What did you ask for in payment? Gold? A case of wine? My daughter is not a horse or sheep, to be bartered to the lords of this land for a bottle of Merignac!_

She shook her head slowly. "I was younger at the time. Five years ago I would have only been fourteen." 

Her grandfather crackled. "You want her, my lord? Twenty nobles, and I'll throw in the dogs." He snapped his fingers at a shaft of moonlight. "You, there, bring me some wine." 

The lord ignored her grandfather. "Your mother - is she alive?" 

"She is dead. She died on the eve of the near year, not last but the year before." Some emotion, perhaps it was the surprise, perhaps compassion, she could not tell, moved in the lord's eyes.

He said. "I am sorry. I know the pain of being motherless."

Her grandfather whined. "I want a drink. Treion took my wine, the little bastard. Little Bastard." He turned in a circle. "She would never say his name, no matter how I beat her. She loves her brother." He giggled senselessly and crouched to pat the dirt with his hands.

Lord Denethor's face went stony again. Asha said, "My lord, I beg you, ignore him. He does not know what he is saying. He has been like this for months."

"Has he indeed." His face changed suddenly. "Of course. He did not lead the raid tonight. Who did?"

Asha knew that she could tell him that it was Eden. He was dead, and it would serve him no dishonesty to put the blame on him. But she did not want to risk the lie coming to light.

"My brother, Treion, led the raid. Ask any of his cohorts, those that are sober enough to talk. They will tell you."

"And where is he?"

She shrugged, a rueful smile spreading across her face. "He is far away from here, I am sure. He must have heard you coming, and escaped."

"Durgin!"

A lean, grim-faced man with a badge on his sleeve stepped forward. "One man did escape through the back ahead of us, Lord Denethor. But he won't get far. Two of our best are out there, looking for him."

To her horror, a familiar voice said. "My sister tells the truth. I do not deny it." By all that was holy, it was Treion. He sauntered into the center of the clearing. He held his bare sword in his right hand. "However, I must correct her inference that I ran away when your men arrived. I did not run away. I merely moved faster than these cretins." He cut a contemptuous look at the encircled men.

Arrogant, impossible, stupid Treion . . . The outlaws looked at him hopefully. Fools, Asha wanted to shout at them, he will only make it worse. Her fingers curled into fists. She wanted to hit him.

The outlaws looked at him hopefully. Fools, Asha wanted to shout at them, he will only make it worse. Her fingers curled into fists. She wanted to hit him.

A man caught her eye then, and she shifted her gaze to find a tall man with an even taller pointed gray hat sitting atop his head, staring at her closely. Studying her. Asha quickly turned away.

Treion bowed theatrically, almost derisively, to Lord Denethor. "Treion Brystowe diSorvina, my lord, at your service. They call me the Bastard."

"I have no interest in your parentage." Lord Denethor said. "I take it that both you and your sister are bastards, yet I have no care. What does interest me is whether or not it was you who led tonight's raid."

"It was. Though I did not kill the old man, nor did I order it. Eden did these both without my consent." Treion nudged Eden's corpse with his toe. "He's paid for it, I said. The lord's justice."

Lord Denethor's eyes glittered with hate. "Durgin, take him."

Drawing his sword, the grim-faced officer walked confidently toward Treion. Treion turned to face him. He seemed relaxed, even lazy, and entirely unafraid.

Suddenly, his drooping sword sliced upward. The knight's sword spun from his hand. Treion touched the point of his blade to the disarmed man's throat.

He said tautly. "I am not so easily taken, my lord. Tell your men to lay their arrows in the dirt. Otherwise, he will die."

No one moved. A ghostly bird called across the forest. None answered.

Then Durgin turned his head to look at his lord.

Lord Denethor said. "Do it." The archers unfastened their quivers and laid them on the ground.

"Move away from them," Treion said.

The lord of the land nodded. His knights stepped back.

"You drunken, stupid pigs," Treion said scathingly to the outlaws. "Find your weapons and meet me where we left the horses. Go." The men scrambled to obey.

"My lord, as you have ordained, we will leave. You will not see us again, though you may hear of us. I intend that you shall hear of us. I will take your best knight with me, however; he shall be my safe conduct till I leave your land. Once we're beyond your borders, I'll let him go. Erican, get a rope, Tie his wrists together in front. Now, get me a horse. One of theirs. Hurry." Erican brought him a horse. "Tie the end of the rope to the saddle." The tip of his sword did not deviate an inch.

He waited till the rope had been secured, then mounted. "I understand you brand brigands in this land." The sword point slashed across the bound man's face, and returned immediately to his throat."My brand." Treion said.

He touched his rigid captive lightly in the center of the chest with the tip of the sword. Blood from the word on his cheek ran down the man's face and into his clothing.

The lords voice was soft and deadly. "If he dies, make no mistake: I will find you."

"I believe you," Treion said. "I wouldn't want you to do that. I'll keep him alive. Farewell, Grandfather. You are a vicious drunk, and I hope death soon finds you." For a moment his eyes met Asha's, and she saw the pride and rage burning in their depths. "Farewell, sister dear. I did not lie to you as children. Your father truly was a Dwarf, but luckily, you took after our mother. No facial hair and thin like a willow tree. Although you are short like them. Make a fair life for yourself, sister. Do not follow after me, or my path. Now, walk, you." He urged his mount into the trees. The knight, blood streaming down his cheek, ran at the horse's side.

The lord's knights scrambled to retrieve their weapons. Asha's legs were shaking. The dogs pressed protectively against her.

A delicate, insubstantial birdsong began on. The moon, its light diminished, had fallen behind the trees. Dawn was approaching.

Her grandfather whined. "Lia's little bastard. It was my thought to name him Treion. It means treasure. I meant it as a joke. The joke's on me. The boy took my treasure. Stole my soldiers. Drank my Merignac. Bad Lord. Mad Lord." He glanced archly at Lord Denethor. "Mad as your father."

"Old man, for all that is holy, be quiet." A dark haired archer said.

"Hah!" The old man drew himself up, looking much as Asha remembered from her childhood."Who are you to speak to me like that? My lord, your men are rudely mannered. Mad Lord. They say you killed your brother for the title over this land. Steward." He spat, eyes blazing. He waggled his bony finger in the air, and just like that the angry man of old was gone, replaced by her mad Grandfather. "I had chests of gold and jewels once. Poof! Gone, all gone. Treion took them. He took my Merignac, too. It was the Lord's gold he stole. Your father, the Mad Lord. I wanted him to marry her, but no, he wouldn't do it, no, not Lia, not my daughter."

"He fucked her, though. She would never admit it, but I saw them, I saw them, I saw them lying beside the stream. I knew. I knew it. I knew that whore would never satisfy him. He gave her a bastard, though. And now he's gone with my wine. Little Bastard."

The dark haired archer flinched.

Lord Denethor's eyes burned like the stars. "Burn it. Burn them all." He said lowly.

Men began to run then, and Asha was thrown to the ground, her head ringing painfully as she saw black. A deep, commanding voice yelled for the madness to end, but Asha could not tell who had spoken.

And then a hot wind rose out of the earth, bowing the tall trees as if a giant's hand had swept across their tops. Dust and dirt and tiny pebbles seemed to fly through the air in circles. She saw her grandfather on the ground, sheathed in fire, but she could not remember how he had gotten there. A bright light seemed to sear the clearing, and fire filled her vision. The trees were burning. Her grandfather was little more than a cinder beneath the flames. Fire whipped about her, devouring the air. She panted, fighting to breath. She struggled to her feet.

Pain shot through her scalp. She yanked the bronzed hair clip from her head and flung it away. A fiery rain splattered at her feet. Flame erupted from the dry forest floor. She ran, and fell, and ran again. A tree crashed in front of her, showering her with sparks. Eyes shut tight against the bitter smoke, she felt her way around it. A body cannoned into her.

"This way!" A deep man's voice cried, and she realized that it was the elderly man who wore the strange pointed hat. "This way! We must get to the river!"

Suddenly her legs went out from under her. She fell and slid into a sour enveloping coolness. Near her, someone sobbed. She clutched at the riverbank. Far away, a horse screamed in agony, a terrible rending sound.

The one sobbing cursed, and, with a start, she realized that it was herself.

~~~

Eventually, the fire passed, and the world around her calmed.

Asha sat on a rock. She had no idea how she had gotten there; she could not recall leaving the haven of the river after it swept her away. Below her, the land sloped down toward rolling hills and thick woods.

Asha's limbs felt sluggish and sore, as if she had been beaten.

Her thin, tattered gown was charred. She still had her bow and quiver, though. Somehow, through the long hours swirling through the reeds and river rocks and water, it had stayed in its sheath.

Both Fergus and Rhea were gone. Dead no doubt.

Clouds like feathers streaked the pale mauve sky. A shadow passed over the sun. She looked up. High above her, large clouds began to form.

A place on her side pulsed with pain. She heard her Mother's cool, astringent voice in her head, reminding her that tea, or a past made of egg whites and honey, would ease the pain of burns and scalds. She had neither.

"Where will you go?" The tall, pointed hat man asked.

"I know a place." Asha had a picture in her mind, of a place where the river widened into a pool beside a tangle of berry bushes. Near it lay a small village, filled to the brim with little people with furry feet and kind eyes. Her mother had brought her to it, soon after they arrived from the far west.

"What is this place, mama?" A tiny Asha had asked, her eyes wide.

Her mother had simply smiled. "A place where I was happy, for a time, with your father. I wanted you to see it, even though he is long gone from this place. Should your life ever be in danger, or you don't know who to turn to, travel here and ask for the Tooks. They will take good care of you."

"Are you sure?" The man asked, his tone skeptical as he craned his neck to look down at her.

"Yes." She said. "I am sure."

The old man nodded and glanced behind his shoulder, where she could see a steady line of people walking from the still burning remains of her home of the ridge. "You plan to travel quite some ways, do you not?"

"I do," Asha admitted.

"Than you should be on your way, and stay in the shadows. Many would not blink at the sight of a young woman traveling alone, with little protection, but to think to harm her . . . well, I'm sure you know the dangers." The old man advised.

"I know better than most," Asha replied. "What is your name?"

"My dear, I am Gandalf. I expect that we will see one another again. Sooner if not later." And with that, the strange old man with the pointed hat was walking away, a cheery tone falling from his lips as he whistled.

Her legs ached, and her chest hurt from breathing smoke. She was stiff. The longer she sat, the stiffer her body would be. She rose and, with only a slight limp, she ascended the slope. At the crest of the ridge, she stopped. Below her spread a meadow and beyond it the blue-green tinge of a forest. A glint of silver caught her eye; the river, curving through the emerald meadow grass. She trudged down the slope. It would be weeks before she reached her destination.


	3. Chapter Two - An Unexpected Family

Nearly three months after the burning of Ambellshire Ridge, Belladonna Took went out to mend the stone fence that ran along the eastern border of her home. The largest stone had tumbled from the fence and sunk into the mud. She rocked it and kicked it, but the ground held it firm. She knew that she would need a stick to pry it loose.

She went back to her small shed and found an old ax handle. As she leveled the stone out of the sucking soil, a strange sensation washed over her and told her that she was no longer alone. A small woman stood on the other side of the fence, thin to an extream and dirty, with a feral sort of look in her bright eyes.

She was covered in filth and wore a soiled and stained white gown that seemed to be burnt in more places than not. Her hair was long and reached past her waist, but was so uneven that it looked to her as if someone had chopped at it with a knife. Many places were matted together by dirt and sweat. Belladonna knew that she had never seen her before. The woman stared at her fixedly.

"When I was very young my mother brought me to this place and told me that in a time of need, I could seek out the Tooks. She said they were brave and that they would help me should they learn my name." The woman paused. "My name is Asha Brystowe diSorvina, and does this still stand true?" She had a pleasant voice, as soft as silk and high as a birds song, even though it rasped as if she were sick from fever. And then, with no warning, the little woman fell to the ground, arms and legs crumbled beneath her awkwardly as she groaned. "Please . . . please, help me."

~~~

Belladonna never did finish the fence that day.

~~~

The small Hobbit home was warm - too warm to the seriously ill Asha - and it smelled of new bread. A tabby cat looked up from its place on the windowsill to gaze suspiciously at the newcomer.

She took a cup from the female Hobbit, Belladonna, and sipped slowly, her head swimming uncomfortably. The cider's fruity wine taste made her momentarily dizzy and she nearly lost the contents of her stomach. "My name is Asha."

Belladonna smiled down at her, and Asha smiled shyly. "Hush now little one." The female Hobbit said, smoothing several stay hairs from her face. A platter on the side table nearest to the bed held a loaf of bread and several thick slices of cheese and meat. Belladonna laid a slice of cheese across a slab of bread and handed it to Asha, who bit into it, moaning softly as she did. The bread of small bits of nuts in it. Her fingers shook, and she had to force herself to eat slowly. Belladonna sat on a bench beside the bed and sighed. "You've slept for nearly a week now, little one. Eat, and then we'll discuss your story."

Asha nodded slowly, never slowing the spill of food into her mouth, and when, at last, she finished, the platter was cleared and her stomach full.

"Tell me what happened, please. I've not seen your mother, Lia, in many years, but there is no doubt that you are hers." And so Asha began to talk. She told Belladonna everything that she knew, and some that she guessed at, and by the end of the recital, Belladonna had brought forward breakfast, as well as elevensies, lunch, and supper, and the sun had long since lost its brightness in the sky. Breathing deeply, Belladonna sat back. "Lia was my friend for many years. I'm sorry to hear of her passing. And to think, she was a noble born lady! The first I meet her, I thought her to be a vagabond."

Asha sighed. Belladonna had exclaimed the same thing many times already, and her head was beginning to throb from the effort of staying awake.

Belladonna smiled and poured more cider into Asha's cup. "So, you've nothing to worry about. I think you mother feared something, or something very similar coming to pass, and she had me promise before she disappeared into the night, that should her daughter ever ask me for aid, I would provide it. At the time, well, I thought it nothing more than a mother's love, but it seems that she was right, and you would need it, in time. What do you plan to do now?"

"I don't know," Asha answered honestly. "I've spent the last three months sleeping under the cover of trees and inside abandoned homes that I found on my way here. My mother said that if I was ever in need of help, that the Tooks may or may not help me. So that is why I came here."

A small voice called out then, startling both women from their thoughts. "Mama? Who are you talking to?"

Rising, Belladonna lumbered to a hallway, and, curious, Asha followed after. "It would seem that our guest has finally awakened, Bilbo, sweet." She said as she passed through a low doorway and into what seemed to be a dining hall. "She has come to visit us, and mayhaps stay for a while. Her name is Asha, and I was very good friends with her mother."

"What does she look like? I want to see her."

Asha stepped forward and smiled, realizing that the voice belonged to a child who seemed to be only a few years older than herself. His cheeks were flushed by the sun, his eyes bright with intelligence and allergies.

"Hello, why is your dress torn?" He said, his voice thin from lack of breath due to, Asha thought, running.

"I've been traveling through the forests," Asha replied.

Bilbo shook his head. "You should be more careful, you know." He smiled a bright smile that brought one of her own to her face.

"You're right." Asha agreed. "I shall be, I promise." She began to cough then - dry, hacking coughs that brought tears to her eyes. Belladonna coaxed Asha to drink, then escorted her back to the guest bedroom, where she had been staying since her arrival. She straightened the bed covers, crooning.

Asha asked. "How long have I been like this?"

"A week or so. You are much better today than you have been any other day. You seem to strengthen with the sunlight, but at night the cough returns and you seem to have trouble breathing."

"If you bring me a pot and a flask of wine, I can brew a tisane to help control my cough, and ease my breathing.

You have skill in such matters?" Asha nodded. "You may stay. I'll show you were the pots are and the wine. Anything that you need, I will buy from the market; I'm afraid that I don't keep herbs and other such things."

Asha smiled.

~~~

The next day, she finished brewing the tisane she had begun that morning. It held Elecampus Root, Licorice, and Bellflower, all of which Belladonna had brought from the market after breakfast. She had guessed at the proportions. Asha had the body of a child, and her mother had always warned her than herbals meant for children should be more dilute than those made for adults.

"I will drink this when I cough. I'll add honey to it because it will be bitter." Asha explained slowly, as Belladonna watched her with wide eyes. "I'll have to remember to eat. I'll need my strength. I can't have milk, though. Only water, or soups. Honey is very good for the healing process as well." She tried to remember what she had heard her mother say when children were sickly, as they were during the winter months. "I can rub my chest with grease, and bind it lightly with flannel. It will keep me warm."

"You know what you're doing," Belladonna smiled, running her fingers through Asha's hair. "Will you become a medic as you grow older?"

Asha shrugged. "I've never given it much thought, to be honest. Mayhaps I will."

~~~

In the years that followed, Asha realized that happenstance - the gods' will, Belladonna said, but then she was a devout woman in her own way - had given her not only a friendship with Bilbo and his mother but a family as well. One without which she surely wouldn't have survived, and certainly not in any comfort.

Summer's came and Fall passed. When the winter months would draw close, storms blew over the mountains, veiling the fields that surrounded the Shire with snow as high as Asha's waist, and then, years later, after she had gained another foot in height, her thighs. Through the beginning of the winter months, and well into the new years, days went by when they saw no their face but each other. But then a gloved hand would pound on the door, and Asha or Bilbo or Belladonna would open it to find a neighbor standing on the doorstep, fur-clad, breathing steam, and pulling a laden sledge. Sometime it would hold salted meat, other times cheese. Often, they would bring bread. Asha, in return, would hunt when the sky was still, bringing to the Shire rabbit meat and, occasionally, pheasant or duck. Several times over the years she had spotted dear, and each time she was able to bring back a large, young buck, thick with meat.

In times of thaw, she sometimes went back with the visitors, going to the homes of those with small children to give away the tonics and tisanes she would brew. She could cure colds, battle the flu, alleviate aches and pains brought on by the cold, and she also knew how to make a wonderful melted chocolate drink that would warm the belly and bring color back to one's cheeks. During the days spent with nothing else to occupy her time, Ash could always be found at the kitchen stove, mixing, drying, chopping, stirring. The Hobbit's home always smelled of brewing herbals.

"What do you plan to do with them?" Belladonna asked one evening, sitting at the table with a mug filled with peppermint tea.

"I'll continue to give them to those who need it during the winter, but I'll save what I can, and sell it come spring time." She picked up a jar of a thick green paste that would help calm the itch of poison oak or ivy. "So very few of you seem to understand how to brew an herbal; I can't imagine those in the area not seeking them out after a time. And once I make enough coin, I will buy my own home."

Belladonna nodded sagely.

~~~

Twice that winter, Asha glimpsed others in the forest as she hunted. Once it was a bearded, stumpy man dressed in rags. He wore a shapeless cap on his head. She asked Belladonna about him.

"I do not know his name, but he lives with his brother in the forest, although no one is sure as to where," Belladonna said. "In autumn they come to help with the harvest. I'm surprised that you've never seen him in all the years you've been here, to be honest."

The second time, she was gathering bark, and dry wood, with Bilbo, when her adoptive brother froze at her side. Asha turned. A woman stood watching her. Her white hair blazed about her seamed, strong face. Her clothes were stained, shapeless, and ragged.

Asha watched her for a moment before speaking. "Good morning, Gran."

The woman did not answer, and, after standing in the snow for much too long, Asha turned back to her task. When she next glanced behind her, the woman had vanished. She asked Belladonna about her as well.

"You saw the old woman Not many do. She lives deep in the forest. Many think her to be a witch."

"What do you think?"

"I think she is harmless," Belladonna said, watching as Asha stirred the contents in a pot atop the stove. "I sometimes leave bread for her, in the winter, and meat other times, when I have it. What can it hurt?"

~~~

The following summer Asha felt that she held enough coin in her purse to purchase the small, run-down cottage that had been erected at the edge of the forest, less than a twenty minutes walk from Bag End. And so, after much paperwork and fussing over the price, she held a contract to the house and land around it, and her feet found their way to her new home. A ghost of a path had led to a vine-covered entrance. She had struggled through the thick tangle, and she knew she would bere a scar from a thorn, hidden in the glossy leaves.

 

Belladonna and Bilbo appeared shortly after she first stepped across the thresh hold, pots of soap and buckets of water in hand, amidst a number of other cleaning items.

The cottage, itself, was small, but dry. Several shutterless windows adorned the walls - simple square holes. A rude chest rested near the doorway. Asha lifted the lid, only to find that someone, a hunter or trapper, had left a blanket, a bowl, a jug, and a coiled, dry bowstring.

She had sent thanks to the unknown stranger and quickly set to work cleaning the cottage, her adoptive family at her side.

~~~

The following weeks were filled with travels from her new home to the marketplace. The first time she left the marketplace, she had carried a clean blanket in which reposed a pot, a skein of thread, three bone fishhooks, a needle, a jar of soap-sand, half a dozen candles, a shirt and a pair of trousers and a tunic, along with the other items she knew she would need to survive. During her time in the marketplace, she spread her knowledge of herbs and treatments for what ails a person, as well as sold her herbals and tonics and other such items.

At her home, she spent much of her time cleaning and making the cottage livable. She swept and dusted. She mended the walls, plugging grass and moss into the chinks between the stones. When Asha pulled sweet-grass and reeds from the riverbed to make her bed, she had found the door hidden beneath a mat of brush, and fastened it back onto its pegs.

Some short weeks later, a steady stream of folk made their way to Asha's doorstep. Most had minor ailments, and Asha did what she could for them. She made teas for headaches, stomachaches, and flatulence. She made tisanes for fevers and anxious nerves. She made syrups for coughs, and poultices for bruises and sprains and bug bites.

She spent most mornings fishing, catching one or two trout, which she then behead and season with rosemary before setting them on a banked fire to slowly roast. The rest of her days normally involved her prowling the woods looking for herbs. The trees were thick with new leaves, and it provided a great deal of shade for them to grow properly. She found Lavender. She found Chamomile and Sorrel. She found Foxglove and Penny-Royal and Sage and Peppermint. She even found Poppy growing near the river.

In the evenings she would eat her fish, or, by chance, squirrel or rabbit or fowl, by candlelight. She slept on dried sweet grass, under clean blankets. Before dawn, she would take sweet smelling, honey-scented soap and her clothes to the river. Using her hands, she scooped the cold river water over every inch of her body. She scrubbed her skin with the soap, then again with a soapy cloth till her normally pale skin would glow red. She would pay special attention to her hair. She sometimes washed it as many as three times before she was satisfied.

Shivering, but clean, she would then wash her clothes, scrubbing dirt and stains from the cloth till it seemed as if it had never been used before. But her clothes had seen her clearing space for a garden behind the cottage and filling that same cottage to the brim with cuttings.

Some days she would spend at Bag-End, visiting family and eating good food that had been cooked by a hand other than her own.

Once, when the two women were alone in the house, Bilbo gone to visit friends, Belladonna spoke of her husband's death, and her own, which she was sure to be coming soon.

"I'm leaving Bag-End to Bilbo, my lovely."

"The home is yours, then?"

"Aye. My dear husband left it to me. He built it with his own hands, you see. It is not so big, but it serves us. We want for not and I will tell Bilbo that you are to be allowed to come back to live if you so wish. Or you may come and go as you please. I've grown rather fond of you over the past twenty-three years, and I believe Bilbo has as well. I do not see him fighting me about this."

She was not lonely. She missed her adoptive mother, though, sweet Hobbit that she had been, when she remembered her death, only a few short weeks later, and she sometimes missed Bilbo, who didn't seem to have as much time to spend with her as before. But she was never alone long enough to be lonely.

At the Market, which she still visited occasionally to trade her remedies for the goods she could not fashion, she liked to listen to the tales the travelers would tell of the world. Some, like the story of the great evil that had swept the land, were ones she knew. Others, like the story of the terrible dragons of the north, were new to her.

And so, after a time, she realized that she had made herself a home, and, despite her growing fifty years of age, she still looked much the same as she had when she had first arrived at the Shire if only to fill out a bit.

Her skin was still the same shade of pale china, her eyes just as bright and brilliant. Her lashes had grown longer as time had passed, and they were now dark as ink. Her hair had grown richer over the years, due to the constant exposure to the sun, and now the long strands resembled those of spun ice and gold. A splattering of freckles stood out against her pale skin, nearly as gold as her hair. Her body had filled out into that of a woman's, her hips rounded in just the right way and her breasts full, but not heavy. She was, in a sense, beautiful. But it the kind of beauty that was effortless, that came from innocence, and demure, and honesty.

But sometimes, when she looked into a mirror, she could still see that girl who had gained her freedom from fire. It was in those moments that, if she listened very closely, she thought she could hear a man whispering her name, begging her to come to him.

She never thought anything of it.

Until . . . 


	4. Chapter Three - An Unexpected Visitation

The Shire, Middle Earth, 2941

Asha was sitting near the river when she saw the tall man with a pointed hat pass near the ridge, startling her from her thoughts.

"Ava." She called. A buckskin pony, only ten hands high, trotted from where she had been happily munching on fresh, sweet grass. Her long, long hair flopped into her eyes as she walked, causing Asha to smile. Hoisting herself up to the pony's bareback, she patted her neck. "Come, let us see who is traveling so close to the Shire."

Walking slowly, Ava climbed to the crest of the ridge. A man stood just over the crest of the ridge, his face turned toward the sun as she approached atop her equine. She raised a hand and squinted up to the face beneath the hat, and was surprised to find, though it had been many long years since she had last seen him, Gandalf. His face was just a little more wrinkled than when she had last seen him, but his hair and beard were just as neat, his eyes just as bright with mischief and knowing. His eyes held a look that bothered her, making her feel as if she were about to have the world explode before her and it would be all his fault. "Gandalf?"

Ava, motionless and only slightly alert beneath Asha, stared at the man closely, huffing slightly, low in her throat. Asha knew that she had a loaf of poppy-seed bread at her cottage, fresh backed, and several rose-bellied trout she had caught that morning, still in a woven net close to the river bank. She had intended to cook them for supper but now . . .

"Are you hungry? I have food. Bread and fish."

"Food sounds quite wonderful, my dear," Gandalf said with a smile, his eyes shining brightly in the light of the setting sun.

She led him to the cottage, and he halted on the threshold, taking in the wreaths and strings of dried herbs that hung from every ceiling beam. The cottage smelled powerfully from their mingled aromas. He stepped into the small room.

"You are a herbalist? I knew not." He said slowly, eyes still roaming the room.

"I have a good knowledge of the skill. I was never formally trained, but I help where I can." She finished, motioning to the small piles of jars that had collected in the corner of the cottage over the winter months.

Ava could be seen through the window eating grass from the edges of Asha's garden, tail swishing through the air. Gandalf watched Asha closely as she sat bread and a pot of honey on a tray, and laid it on the narrow wooden plank that served for her table. She filled a cup with water and sat it before him.

"Please, Gandalf, sit. Tell me what you are doing here."

He sat, and gestured to a second stool, leaning against the nearest wall. "This is your home, you must sit as well."

Snorting, Asha drew up the second stool and seated herself opposite him. He slathered honey on a slice of bread and ate it in three bites.

His propinquity made the cottage seem smaller than it was. It was not an effect simply of his size: While she was as short as most Hobbits, and had known many other big men, she felt as though he were taking all the room of her cottage and expanding it upon himself. It was the sense of power, the weight of his presence, the brightness of something that burned deep within him.

"You bake amazing bread, my dear." He said, taking another slice and slathering it with just as much honey as the first one.

Smiling, Asha took a slice for herself and shrugged. "You learn to cook well when you have no one else to cook for you." Chewing thoughtfully, she studied the man before her. "Tell me, Gandalf, what are you doing here? I've racked my brain and can't seem to understand why you would visit me all these years after the burning of Ambleshire Ridge. You said, then, that we would see one another again, but it's been so long, so many years ago . . . "

"You said you were not a herbalist. But someone taught you."

Sighing, for she knew he was purposely changing the topic, she nodded. "My mother taught me. She felt it best that I knew how to make pastes and tinctures. She taught me how to mix one element with another, and sometimes with wine, to make both more active. He taught me to label my work and how to recognize and treat simple ailments."

"Could you treat a sword wound? A simple one."

"Aye."

"How?"

"I would wash it in water that had been boiled and allowed to cool and powder it with comfrey. If it were deep, I would recommend stitching it."

"And could you do that?"

"Yes." In the years spent as the younger sister of a boy who wanted nothing more than to kill himself, or so it seemed, Asha had done it many times.

Gandalf smiled, lifting his cup, and studied her over its rim. "What happened to your mother?"

The skin on her face and arms paled. "She died."

"How?"

It had been such an unnecessary death - one that could have been prevented. "When my mother brought me to Ambleshire, she grew sick. A broken heart would be the only way to describe it. She simply lost the will to survive and wasted away. One night, she seemed healthy enough, or as healthy as she had been in recent memory, and the next morning she was just . . . gone. I tried to help her, I really did, but she didn't want to be helped. She refused to eat, only drank when I forced water down her throat, and she threw out any and all herbals that I made for her."

Her guest demolished the last of the bread. She brought the water skin to the table and refilled his cup. As she re-seated herself, her foot encountered something stiff. One of her dolls lay prostrate and forlorn beneath the table. She couldn't remember its name; something grand: Rhena, Alisandra . . . Castilla . . . She dusted it off and set it on the table before her.

Gandalf's wide mouth quirked. "Charming. Is this another of your skills?"

"It is." She held the little doll upright and made it bow. "Good day, Master Human." She belted, her voice high-pitched and thin. She had taught herself on the making of the dolls some years before, carefully carving each one by hand. She would give away the wonderful wooden dolls, which always had an elaborate tale to go with it. There were many dolls. They were, Asha would declare, all kings, queens, Wizards, warriors. They were gorgeously dressed, in lace and fur, silk and wool, taffeta and satin. Their bodies were all made of wood, with carefully constructed ball-joints that allowed for easy movement. During the days spent with nothing to occupy her time, Asha could always be found working on a new doll: whittling away at a face or arm or torso, or sewing a new dress or tunic or some other such.

An expression she could not read crossed the man's face. He said meditatively. "You asked me why I am here, and I believe that I should tell you that I do not come for a cheerful visit, although it is more than cheerful to see you once again."

"Then why are you here Gandalf?" Asha asked, her head tilting to the side, as she slipped the doll into the largest pocket of her dress.

"Asha, dear, what do you know of Wizards?" Gandalf asked slowly, his face guarded.

"My mother used to tell me stories of them. She said that in the Undying Lands hundreds and hundreds of years ago, Manwë became aware of the spirit of Morgoth's most dedicated lieutenant Sauron rising in power again, and summoned a council of the Valar to send three messengers to Middle-earth to protect the free people and assure them the Valar had not forgotten them. Two Maiar came, Curumo, who was sent by Aulë, and Alatar, sent by Oromë. Manwë asked where Olórin was, and he came, after returning from a journey. Manwë asked Olórin if he would go as the third messenger. Olórin said that he was too weak, and he was afraid of Sauron. However, Manwë said that was all the more reason to go, and that he commanded Olórin to go as the third. Then Varda said, "Not as the third." Yavanna begged Curumo to take Aiwendil, and Alatar took Pallando as a friend. They were forbidden to dominate the free peoples of Middle-earth or to match Sauron's power with power." Asha paused for a moment, eyes far away as she remembered the lithe of her mother's voice as she told her the stories. "They are Wizards now, and they go by different names. Saruman and Radagast and . . . Gandalf . . . "

Asha's eyes grew wide and she turned to stare hard at the man before her. Gandalf, for his part, began to laugh loudly, and in the same moment a bright, cheerful fire sprang to life in the hearth, where before there had been no coals, no wood, nothing to warrant a fire with so much warmth.

"My dear Asha, I wish you no harm." Gandalf quickly said at the little woman's terrified expression. "I only come to propose an adventure to you."

Asha seemed to calm and her expression became thoughtful. "What kind of adventure?"

"My dear, what do you know of the Dwarves home - Erebor?"

~~~

Four days after the unexpected visit from the Wizard, a heavy knock sounded on Asha Brystowe diSorvina's door.

Asha was kneading bread dough. "A moment!" She scooped the dough into its bowl and covered it. Wiping her fingers on a cloth, she opened the door, expecting to see Devon, a neighboring friend who commonly came to visit. She wore a tight pair of breeches and a low-necked tunic that bared much of her midriff and too much cleavage.

Gandalf stood in the small doorway, a strange grouping of Dwarves huddling together behind him. Asha only just kept herself from laughing at the Dwarves startled faces when they caught sight of her clothes. "Come in! Come in, you'll catch your death out there." Asha laughed, a sweet smile on her face.

The Dwarves all but sprinted into her cottage, attempting to escape from the rain that had been falling since the previous morning, and Asha yelled, bounding out of the way.

"Gandalf." Asha sighed, shaking her head, turning her back to the Dwarves for a moment. "I thought you said that you wouldn't arrive for a week!"

Behind him, Asha could see a large black gelding bent its head to snatch at the new grass, as well as eight ponies.

Gandalf chuckled. "The rain hurried us along, my dear."

"I'll say." The exasperated and annoyed grumbling was emitting from the Dwarves was enough to cause Asha to shake her head before moving forward to glean a closer look at them all.

After a quick study, where she drew the attention of every Dwarf in attendance, she nodded. "I'm making bread for dinner, but it will be a while still. Make yourself at home, but, please, don't break anything."

Turning on her heel, she moved to stalk towards Gandalf, and in the same movement, the Wizard held out a wooden case. "This is for you."

She opened it. Nestled within the smooth wood lay a small silver ring, shaped strangely like a horseshoe, with two small chunks of raw amethyst sitting atop the rings ends. She carefully lifted it from its nest and gazed at it in wonder for a moment before closing the wooden cover, ring enclosed. Holding it out, she shook her head. "Gandalf, I can not take this."

"It is mine, therefore I may give it away as I wish. Besides, the Amethyst is a powerful stone of protection. It will guard you, and soothe your fears and anxiety. Do you want it?"

He was her friend; she could not lie to him. She nodded. He smiled. "Good, then it is yours."

Sighing, Asha slipped the ring on her pinkie, the only finger that the ring would fit, and turned to the Dwarves, who were looking at the cottage with approval. "Would you care to tell me your names. Gandalf seems rather set on my accompanying you."

As it turned out, the eight Dwarves who stood before her were short of name and fierce of voice. The youngest, Ori, was a sweet lad who quickly offered to assist in the making of bread while the others introduced themselves. There were Dori and Nori, brother's of Ori, Oin, and Gloin, also brothers, and then Bofur and Bombur, cousins to Bifur, who, Asha had realized with a start, had an Orcish ax buried deep into his forehead.

They spent the afternoon talking, or rather, Asha questioned the Dwarves and they answered while Asha listened quietly. They spoke of the Quest, and Asha was relieved to find that they did not lie, as she would have known due to Gandalf's quick explanation only four days past.

Many of the Dwarves commented on her appearance, strange as it was. She only just past four foot tall, despite the incredibly thick soles of her worn, leather boots, but she seemed taller in the same way that a dance does, with their long necks and willowy limbs. She wasn't a dancer, but she had the look, in figure if not in fashion. They knew of no dancers who had hair as pale as hers, yet as boldly colored as gold or a constellation of scars o their limbs, and Asha seemed to have both.

Asha piled her table high with food that night, knowing that the Dwarves could eat just as much as a Hobbit given half the chance. And so, by the time they all settled down to eat, the table was overflowing with food: Roasted chicken, and turkey and quail. Pork chops and lamb chops, roast beef, sausages, bacon, and eggs. Boiled potatoes, roasted potatoes, and mashed potatoes. Peas, carrots, corn, and green beans. Bread of every kind, and sweet rolls filled with juicy red apples and fiery cinnamon.

Living with her grandfather, Asha had never exactly starved, but she had never had enough food before her that she could turn any of it away. Smiling so widely her teeth showed, Asha nodded to the Dwarves and joined them as they piled their plates high with anything they could reach, and quickly dug in with gusto.

The red-headed Dwarf sitting to her right - Nori, she reminded herself - watched her from the corner of his eyes, nearly choking on a thick bite of bread when he saw her plate. Nudging her with his shoulder, he chuckled, leaning down close. "You know you're not going to be able to eat all that, right?" He asked teasingly, surprised to find that he enjoyed the tiny woman's company.

Asha snorted, shrugging her shoulders. "Would you like to take a bet on that?"

Gandalf interrupted then, his voice light. "I wouldn't take her up on that offer, if I were you, Master Dwarf. She grew with the Hobbits of these lands and I've seen them eat their weight in food, then return a mere hour later for more!

Asha could tell that the Dwarves were skeptical of his words, but as the meal continued and the small cottage echoed with laughter and talk, the clatter of knives and forks ringing in the air, they watched in shock as she moved on to have a second, then third plate, eating nearly as much Bombur. Bofur, his eyes wide, asked where she put it all, as he couldn't understand since she was such 'a small, little thin' without any meat on 'er bones.'

It wasn't until the plates were being washed and put away that any of the Dwarves though to question her in return.

"Lady Asha? Why do you wear such strange clothes?" Ori asked his gaze on her attire, a faint blush spreading across his face.

Shifting in her seat as she rose her hands above her head to stretch, she giggled. "I work in the forest much of the time, and it gets rather hot, especially with summer well on its way. The shirt is short like this due to the fact my pony decided that it would be fun to eat it, and I've not had time or money to buy a spare. The breeches are because it's easier to move quietly through the trees." Asha paused, gazing out the window through narrowed eyes. "I've never much liked being dressed like a lady, I suppose. Oh, I'll wear a dress for special occasions, or a skirt for travel - it's much easier to move in sometimes - but for the everyday? No, my Grandfather truly beat that out of me."

Ori bowed his head to the lady before him, his heart sore at the thought of her taking any sort of beating. Gandalf had, of course, warned the Dwarves that the Lady Asha had lived a rough life, but he was surprised that she spoke of it so easily. He could tell that his brothers were disturbed by the information as well, and they watched in shock as Asha turned to smile at them all kindly.

"Don't look so. I escaped that life, and I've been very happy here in the Shire. I've family now, despite my adoptive mother's death, and I'm better for all that's ever happened to me." She said brightly, turning a small sweet roll in her hands for a moment before biting into it, juice from the apple inside dripping down her chin. "Besides, I won't dress like this often when on the road with you, if I do come along."

"And will you come?" Ori asked hopefully, his expression open.

Asha sighed and shrugged her shoulders, turning to stare out the window once more. "I'm not sure. I've not yet decided.


	5. Chapter Four - An Unexpected Decision

Asha woke all in a rush. For a moment, she lay still, blinking, trying to determine what had awoken her. The events of the previous night rushed back to her as she realized it wasn't a sound that had awoken her, but a sensation - a heaviness pressed against her side, unfamiliar and unwelcome.

And then she heard the light snores and realized that it was only Ori. Sweet, gentle Ori who had fallen asleep at her side as they sat talking late into the night. At some point, Asha had fallen asleep as well and they had ended up curled around one another much like two kittens.

For a moment, half asleep as she was, she was still fierce. She was not a warrior, but she was not Asha yet, either.

She was a leaking womb bulging with the promise of conscious thoughts: the frozen woods far beyond her home, the land of her ancestors, the breathy sighs of the Dwarves that surrounded her, the sound of fingers on metal strings. The future and the past, both the same, snow and then summer and then snow again.

The memories of her family, her mother, always taking care of the young or the elderly. Though they'd only been two births since her own: little Angus and sweet Snieg. Growing in the cold of the wilds to the north, it had been hard to carry a child. The fact was, Asha wasn't used to newcomers - her relationships with others normally grew by those befriending her, not the other way around. Her friend, Diane, was the only exception. And Ulrik. Ulrik, her insane Uncle who loved nothing more than to swear at those that past him, despite his mood. Asha could still remember his laughs, like a flock of crows taking off, and the way he held her when she had suffered from night terrors as a child. Despite forgetting her mother's face, she would always remember Ulrik.

In her memories, she seemed small, ribby, innocent.

Rolling to her side, Asha lay on her small, sweet grass bed, watching the Dwarves sleep, long even breaths, moving the flyaway hairs by their faces. In slumber, they seemed utterly certain of their safety, utterly unconcerned by her presence so near their own, despite their not knowing her beyond the night previous.

She slipped from the bed while the Dwarves slept; they didn't even stir as she moved through the cottage. Asha hesitated at the door, looking at the frost-tipped blades of grass. Even though she's slipped her soft, leather boots onto her feet, the early morning air still bit at the skin of her bare wrists and arms, her uncovered stomach, and slender neck. She could feel the roll of nausea in her stomach. It had been so many years since she had felt such a thing that she almost didn't recognize it for what it was. Her other half, her second half. It was stirring, straining to break free, begging to run, to hunt, to live.

"Asha." She told herself, willing her body to believe. "You're Asha." She needed to be warmer. She retreated further into the cottage to find a cloak. Buried beneath a tall pile of dried herbs and curried leather, she found a thick cloak hidden away. The cloak was blue, with a warm, woolen lining that held heat close to her body with little effort.

Cool air bit her cheeks and pinched at the tops of her slightly pointed ears, reminding her that it was still spring, despite the warmth during mid-day. Her hood was laying against her shoulder blades, but she didn't pull it up to cover her chilled skin.

She crunched out across the brittle, colorless spring grass to the middle of her yard and stopped, momentarily dazzled by the violent pink of the sunrise through the fluttering leaves of the trees. The stark landscape was the world away from her small, warm home with its comforting smells of easy survival. Where she was supposed to belong. Where she should've wanted to belong. But the trees always called to her, urging her to abandon what she knew and vanish into the oncoming daylight. It was a desire that had been tugging at her with disconcerting frequency over the past few days.

The darkness at the edge of woods shifted, and she saw a group of young deer huddled together, looking toward her garden with wide, glassy eyes, nostrils sniffing toward the fresh herbs that grew there. Asha hadn't seen the deer for weeks, and she had begun to worry, but she felt a surge of relief as the smell of herbs grew too strong for them to resist they stepped a few steps out of the woods. Then a few more. Closer than they'd ever came before.

Asha faced them, near enough that she could have reached out and touched their downy fur. Or brushed the mud stains on their muzzles.

"Have you finally decided that I'm not a danger to you?" Asha whispered.

They didn't disappear at the sound of her voice, as she had expected. They were as still as statues, their eyes watching her face instead of the world around them.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I never hurt the females." Asha confessed. "I only go after the old, or those that would die without my help."

Slowly, barely moving, she approached them, afraid only of scaring them away. Their ears flickered, acknowledging her presence, but they didn't move.

And then she did what she had been wanting to do for weeks - she put her hands on the neck of the nearest doe and ran her fingers over the slightly coarse fur. She breathed deeply and rubbed her cheek against the doe's neck before slowly stepping away, allowing the deer to wander off. Each one looked back for a moment before disappearing into the woods, their white tails flicking high as they moved from a slow trot to a full run.

Asha sighed and moved impulsively across the yard and through the trees. The ground was damp and soft; she was clumsier when it was like that. The crashing of her own steps through the fallen leaves and tangled brush drowned out any other sounds. But in that noise, the smell of the woods seeped under her skin, reminding her of a life not quite her own. Crushed leaves and wet earth and wood smoke.

There was a bite behind the breeze that reminded her, once again, of spring, but the sun was beginning to shine brightly, and under the shelter of trees, the air was warm with the memory of hotter days.

All around her crows cawed to each other overhead in a vibrant, ugly soundtrack. She stepped carefully, avoiding the little streams that snaked through the underbrush. She felt confident, assured. Silently guided, as though by a strange sixth sense, she followed the same worn paths used by the animals of the Shire every day.

Of course, she knew that it wasn't really a sixth sense. It was just her. It was Asha acknowledging that there was more to her senses than she normally let on. She gave in to them and the became efficient, sharpened. As it reached her, the breeze suddenly seemed to carry a map of scents, telling her which animals had traveled where and how long ago. Her ears picked up faint sounds that had gone unnoticed to her before: the rustling of a twig as a crow built a nest overhead, the soft step of deer dozens of feet away, the slight babble of a brook, near the edge of the woods.

Asha felt like she was home.

She traveled deeper into the woods. The trees were pressed tightly together, the underbrush crammed between the trunks as if it were holding them upright. Brambles caught on her trousers and tore at her hair. Asha's expression turned wistful, and soon the thorns thinned out and the trees grew taller and straighter, their branches not beginning until they were well over her head. The white, peeled bark of the birches looked buttery in the long, slanting morning light, and their leaves were a delicate gold.

These were her woods. The golden woods she'd always imagined running too if, when, she was able to join with her other half once again. A chilled spring wind lifted her hair and sent a shower of gold and emerald leaves glimmering down around her. She spread out her arms, letting them fall into her hands. She looked like a bright angel in an eternal autumn wood. "One happy day for every falling leaf you catch." Her voice was low, and a thought suddenly crossed her mind. Cupping her hand around her mouth, she howled, the tone mournful and joyful, all at once.

She could only hope that her friend would hear it.

Gandalf came forward then, a slight smile on his face as he watched the tiny woman startle violently. "The Dwarves woke in a panic when they realized that their little host had vanished during the night."

Asha watched the edges of the leaves slowly unfold, fluttering in the breeze. "They do not know what I am."

"They do not, and you should not inform them of such unless necessary. Dwarves are very wary of what they do not understand." Gandalf agreed. "Have you come to a decision?"

Asha dropped her gaze to the ground and scuffed her boots in the leaves - countless possibilities for happy days - on the ground. "I think that I have."


	6. Chapter Five - An Unexpected Visit

Asha, being curious and overly inquisitive, learned much about the Dwarves during the week that the Dwarves stayed with her before she or Gandalf was to walk to her adoptive brother's home and invite him along as well, as Gandalf had planned all along.

Nori, it seemed, was witted and wily, always doing something that was dodgy and quite possibly illegal. He was both an expert thief, and immensely loyal. Despite rarely seeing eye to eye with his brothers, he was always protective of them; Dori even more so, as he constantly hounded after Ori, making sure that he hadn't caught a chill, or gotten himself killed in one way or another during their time spent in Asha's cottage, or the woods behind. He was eternally pessimistic, with a natural tendency to expect the worst, but Asha saw that he was more than prepared to risk life and limb in order to protect those he held close. Ori, the youngest of the two brothers, was a talented artist and was often found drawing and writing in his journal. He was both polite and well-bred.

Oin was well read, with an inquiring mind, and, it seemed, he was a healer. He was hard of hearing and often would turn his horn to Asha as she described some herbal salve or another to the Dwarf. Of all the Dwarves, it was Oin's brother Gloin that seemed to be the most outspoken and opinionated, not afraid to challenge authority, and quick to anger. He was, Asha learned over a quick lunch of roasted meats and fresh bread, married to a fine Dwarven lass who sported a particularly fine beard, and the father of a fiery-haired son.

Bifur, as she had noticed during their first meeting, had the rusting remains of an Orc ax embedded in his forehead, which rendered him inarticulate and occasionally angry, his temper flaring quickly and, more often than not, violently. He could communicate only with grunts and hand gestures, but Asha found his company pleasant, and she made more than a normal effort to speak to him and understand his response. His cousin, Bofur, was both endearing and likable, although he had the disastrous tendency to state the obvious and blurt out things without thinking. He loved music and had a fine singing voice, and he had a great love of food, something his brother, Bombur, would be able to easily provide, being the chief cook among the group. Bombur's immense size and voracious appetite were something to be feared, but he brought much laughter to the group.

The Dwarves were, without a doubt, going to grow to be very, very close to the little woman who had thrown herself into their rabble with a wide smile and loud laugh.

But Asha couldn't but wonder what their reactions would be if they knew the truth of her past. Knew the truth of what she was.

~~~

Late one afternoon, Asha set off with Gandalf to walk to her brother's home, leaving the Dwarves behind.

"This is a rich country." Bofur had noted, his gaze wide as he had looked all about, seeing the Shire for the first time without a steady downpour of rain, since she had restrained many of the Dwarves to her house due to their frightening manors. A cow, accompanied by her calf, nosed steadily at the grass. Pigeons fluttered round a dovecote.

"Come, my dear, we will find your brother, I believe, sitting just outside his home on a day as fine as this one."

Nodding, Asha ran beside the Wizard, pausing only to glance over her shoulder, to the group of Dwarves who stood in her doorway, openly waving. "I expect my cottage to still be standing when I come back!" She laughed.

At the affronted expression of the Dwarves, Asha shook her head and sprinted after the Wizard, who had managed to wander quite some distance up the path. The moments past and they soon found themselves standing before a familiar Hobbit Smial. Bilbo, she saw with a smile, was sitting on the small bench just outside his doorway, pipe in hand and a content smile on his face. He was, Asha took note with a frown, growing taller than herself, and she couldn't help but to wonder when it had happened. He was dressed in a rich burgundy waistcoat, dark brown trousers, and a white shirt; the copious amounts of hair on his feet and legs were a dark brown color, richer than the sun-kissed mop atop his head, and seemed to be neatly groomed. He, all and all, looked just the same as the last Asha had seen of him.

Gandalf smirked as he watched the Hobbit for a moment before enchanting a small section of the smoke rising from his pipe, causing it to become a small, fluttering moth that promptly fluttered into the surprised Hobbit's nose.

Looking up in shock, Bilbo smiled weakly at the two travelers standing before him, before realizing with a start that the smaller of the two was none other than his younger sister, little Asha. "Good morning."

Gandalf looked fierce as he stared down at the Hobbit. "What do you mean? Do you mean to wish me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not? Or, perhaps you mean to say that you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?"

Bilbo seemed shocked by Gandalf's line of thinking, and he slowly shook his head. "All - all of them at once, I suppose."

Gandalf looked slightly disapprovingly at the Hobbit and the Hobbit stared back, very confused and bewildered.

"Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen. I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure." The Wizard smiled slightly as he spoke, causing Asha to smirk. It seemed that Gandalf was being difficult for no other reason than to be difficult.

The Hobbit looked quite alarmed. "An - an Adventure? No, now, I don't imagine anyone west of-of Bree who would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things." He paused for a moment to puff on his pipe in agitation. "Make you late for dinner. Hmm."

Bilbo stood quickly, clearly flustered, and checked his mailbox, grabbing the mail and sorting through it, clucking to himself. He looked quite uncomfortable because Gandalf stood where he was, making no move to walk away. Puffing his pipe in vexation, he began to climb the short set of stairs that led to his doorway.

"Good Morning."

Gandalf seemed to swell with annoyance. "To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son as if I were selling buttons at the door."

The Hobbit paused, eyes wide as he stared at the Wizard before him. "Beg your pardon?"

Gandalf frowned. "You've changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

Bilbo's eyes seemed to grow even wider at Gandalf's words. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

Gandalf sighed. "Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I'm Gandalf! And Gandalf means . . . Me."

Bilbo's face went slack with sudden realization. "Gandalf? Not Gandalf, the wandering Wizard, who made suck excellent fireworks! Old Took used to have them on Midsummers Eve. Ha, ha! Well, I had no idea you were still in the business."

Gandalf huffed. "And where else would I be?"

Bilbo seemed a loss for words as he hummed for a moment, confusedly puffing on his pipe.

"Well, I'm pleased that you remember something about me, even if it's only my fireworks. Well, that's decided. It will be very good for you, and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others."

Bilbo seemed to be affronted. "Inform the who? What? No, no no! Wait. We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today, not - mmmm. I suggest you try over the Hill or across the Water." Turning on his heel, Bilbo began to mark smartly towards his door. "Good Morning."

"Now, Bilbo, are you so opposed to an adventure that you would not at least allow this young lady, who plans to accompany me, wait at your home till the other travelers arrive?"

Bilbo could not breathe. Asha, little Asha with her herbals, and beautiful dolls. Asha, who disappeared days on end, only to reappear with fresh wounds and bags full of herbs that no one could recognize. Sweet, strong, brave Asha and she were planning on running into the blue with a Wizard!

At Gandalf's meaning-full look, Bilbo quickly ushered her inside of his home, his breath short and mind spinning dizzily as he tried to understand the Wizards claim. She looked so very much the same, yet not.

There was much for them to discuss.


	7. Chapter Six - An Unexpected Disturbance

Bilbo sighed. "Might I offer you a cup of tea?"

"Tea sounds lovely," Asha said, stepping through the entryway, her eyes shifting through the smial. Bag End was, in a single word, beautiful. Everything was made of polished, weathered wood that was well cared for and reminded Asha of the woodwork found in the religious buildings she had visited over the years. The floors were covered in richly colored rugs that made the little Hobbit hole all the homier. The halls were filled with furnishing that had clearly been cherished over the years. "Thank you, Bilbo."

"No problem, no problem." He led her down a short hall to the dining room, where he motioned for her to sit before walking through a small doorway. He returned moments later, laden with food, and a large kettle filled with what smelled to be peppermint tea. They both began to eat.

"Asha . . ." Bilbo began after several minutes of quiet. "Why . .? Why do you plan on doing something so inherently dangerous? Don't you care about the Shire? Don't you care about me?"

Asha sighed, having expected the questions to begin shortly. "What would you like to know first? Why I'm leaving?" Watching the small Hobbit nod, Asha struggled to find the words. "Bilbo after everything that's happened in my life . . . . I can't stay here any longer. I wanted too. I've even forced myself to stay settled the past year or so." Holding her hand up to stop the words she could see building the Hobbit, Asha smiled kindly. "Bilbo, I've always had the urge to leave, it is nothing new, but of late the feeling has been gnawing at me like a dog does at a bone. It is time for me to move on, to find a new place to settle. And for now, I feel that helping Gandalf on this adventure of his is a worthy cause that will take me where I need to go."

Bilbo appeared confused by her explanation but did not probe the matter further, something for which Asha was truly grateful for.

"You'll always be welcome to come back, Asha, sister," Bilbo said much later, once they had both finished their meal and moved to the main room. "How long do you intend to be in the Shire before you leave?"

Asha unconsciously moved her fingertips to her throat, the skin cool and sensitive as she rubbed, her face thoughtful, and Bilbo glanced at the pale expansion of her neck.

His adoptive sister had grown undeniably odd during her years as a herbalist - she carried a bow, which he knew to be for protection rather than hunting - although she did use it to hunt as well, and several daggers and other such weapons. Bilbo was almost certain that he could spot several scars on her body, but when he asked her about them, Asha only smiled and shook her head.

Suppressing a shiver, Bilbo watched Asha's face carefully. "I'm not sure how long I'll be." She admitted, unsure of the Wizards plans.

Bilbo nodded, seeming pleased with her answer and offered her a third cup of tea.

The day progressed slowly, and Asha, with little else to do, spent the time speaking with her adoptive brother, telling him of her life as it had been over the months she had been unable to visit. She was careful to leave out anything that would upset the Hobbit, and instead spoke of her work as a herbalist and a doll maker. They were both so engrossed in their stories that neither noted when night fell, till it was very late indeed.

When the first knock sounded at the door, Asha quirked an eyebrow at the Hobbit next to her and watched as Bilbo rose from his chair, a low grumble about unexpected visitors and crazy Wizards trailing in his wake.

Asha quickly followed Bilbo down the hall to the door, after abandoning the meal that sat before her, and stood to wait in the round doorway just to the left of the entryway, so she could see all that was about to play out.

When Bilbo opened the door, Asha was just as shocked as he to see a ragged, nearly bald looking Dwarf standing in his doorway, his scalp and arms covered in tattoos, although she was shocked for an entirely different reason than the Hobbit.

"Dwalin, at your service." When Dwalin walked into the Hobbit's home he took note of the expert wood and stonework, of the fine things he both had no use or appreciation for, and he took note of the Hobbit himself. He was a small, little thing, looking up at him with big, blue eyes, the eyes of a creature that had not known the hardships or the horrors of the world as he had known them and was thus as soft as a down pillow, especially around the middle from the look of him. Dwalin was not an unkind Dwarf, rather the opposite if you earned his respect and friendship, but life had taught him to be wary, and thus he was suspicious.

The Hobbit seemed beside himself for a moment before he stood straighter. Nodding his head slightly, he quickly tied his robe. "Bilbo . . . Baggins. At yours."

The Dwarf nodded, then promptly walked deeper into the house, eyes sweeping through the room carefully.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Bilbo asked, nonplussed.

Dwalin snorted. "No. Which way, laddie? Is it down here."

Bilbo seemed to be having a very hard time handling his situation. "Is - is what down where?"

Dwalin dumped his things onto the ground before thrusting the rest into Bilbo's limp arms. "Supper. He said there'd be food and lots of it."

Bilbo dumped the items into the floor with the rest of the Dwarf's belongings and began to stutter. "He said? Who said?"

The Dwarf began to answer, yet paused when he caught sight of a small, young, human woman. The lass the other's spoke of, no doubt. "Who's she, then?"

"My apologies. Asha, I had forgotten you were there for a moment. Master Dwalin, this is Miss Asha, my adoptive sister. Miss Asha, this is Master Dwalin."

Dwalin bowed his head to the lady, though he was not sure what he made of her. She was nearly a foot or so shorter than himself, and as large around as one of his legs. Her lack of height and thin frame was unusual for a human, especially a woman, in his experience, but she gave him a shy yet friendly smile with only a kind curiosity in her eyes, rather than the outright disdain and arrogance that he was familiar with in much of her kind, as she returned his bow and said in a soft, melodic voice: "Hello, Master Dwalin. It's nice to meet you but, please, the both of you, just call me Asha. I am no Miss."

Dwalin raised his eyebrows at her words, while the Hobbit only nodded his head. She raised an eyebrow back at him, her smile turning into a grin as she shoved her bright hair behind an ear, revealing a slightly pointed ear. He couldn't help but smile back, finding that he was already beginning to like the small woman before him, just as the others had said he would. He did not know why he seemed to be taking an instant shine to the girl when he seldom did anyone, but his gut told him that she was no threat to him or his. "As you say, Asha."

After bowing her head to him in appreciation of his respect of her request, she turned and flitted away toward what he assumed was the kitchen, where Dwalin spotted two cooked trout and biscuits, and promptly took a seat at the table.

When the Hobbit nodded feebly and mumbled, "Help yourself." Dwalin began to eat with relish, oblivious to the bemused look of the woman and the disgusted look of the Hobbit.

Little time had past when Dwalin finished all that was spread out on the table and moved on to scavenge things from various jars when his brother arrived. Balin, as Asha learned his name to be, was treated to much of the same bewildered introduction by the Hobbit and he seemed to be just as confused by the presence of the woman as his brother had been, but the confused expression left his face when he spotted his brother. Dwalin sauntered up to Balin with a grin on his face and slapped both of his hands on his shoulders as he said in his gruff, rough voice. "By my beard, you look wider and shorter than we last met."

"Wider, not shorter, but sharp enough for both of us, hmmm?" Balin smiled up at his little brother and they promptly smacked their foreheads together as Bilbo stomped off to put on a change of proper clothes while Asha took a seat by the door, occasionally sneaking looks at the two brothers.

The looks did not go unnoticed by the two and they prompted Dwalin to ask, quietly. "What do ya' make o' tha' lass? She doesna' seem ta be a threat, and does na' treat us, or the Hobbit for tha' matter, as other humans are wan' ta do. The others seemed rather smitten with 'er."

Balin quickly nodded his head and replied. "I agree. Her presence here is rather suspicious, but she seems only curious of us. I have the distinct feeling that she means us no harm, although, I think it wise that we keep an eye on her until we know a bit more."

During their conversation they had wandered into the pantry, going through the food and getting some ale. Balin picked up a wedge of cheese and looked at it curiously, before grimacing. "This cheese had gone blue, why does he still have it in here?"

Asha moved to her feet, brushing away the dust that clung to her skirt, and snagged several sweet rolls from Dwalin's hands, unsure if she would be eating else that night. At the sight of his startled expression, she merely laughed and skipped away, her short, layered skirt bouncing with her movements.

She smiled and chuckled herself, remembering the hardy appetite of a Dwarf, and tilted her head at the sound of Bilbo saying,"I'm sorry."

Apparently, they had all missed what the Hobbit had been saying, and Asha nearly choked with laughter as Balin simply replied, "Apology accepted." and went back to the food.

Asha just rolled her eyes in commiseration with Bilbo and turned toward the Dwarves, hoping to introduce herself, when another knock sounded at the door.

Asha rushed to follow Bilbo as he hurried to the door, but she slipped and fell as she rounded the corner, her feet catching on the corner of one of the many rugs that Bilbo kept scattered through the halls, and she thumped her hip painfully into the wooden flooring. By the time she was on her feet a young blond Dwarf who's name she hadn't been able to catch was already laughing at his brother's blatant mispronunciation of their host's name as he handed said bewildered and annoyed Hobbit all of his newly sharpened knives while the darker haired one scraped mud off his boots on Belladonna's glory box. The blond turned when he heard his brother say fondly. "Mister Dwalin."

The elder Dwarf moved forward and clapped his friend on the shoulder while Balin gave him a small smile just down the hallway. "Kili. Fili. It is good to see you once again."

"Will everyone fit?" A soft voice asked, and it was then that Kili noticed a small woman leaning against a doorway, rubbing her hip gingerly as she spoke quietly to Balin. Balin nodded sagely, then bid both the young Dwarves to help move all the cabinetry out of the Hobbit's dining room, as it was a little too crowded at the moment to fit all of the Company.

"Here, let me help you," Asha said after a moment of watching the two brothers curse at the wooden box they were in charge of moving. Fili and Kili both looked shocked by her offer but soon found that she was more than capable of helping them move the cabinets with little effort.

Kili was unsure of what he thought of the woman. He studied her as she straightened after having hunched over to move the cabinets. She seemed friendly enough by her demeanor but was dressed, unlike any traveler he had come across: A pale white dress that only just reached her knees, several layers of cloth building up to a brilliantly blue overskirt. The bodice was made of the same pale white material as the underskirt and seemed to button down to her waist, although he couldn't be sure due to the thick leather of the under-bust corset she wore. The dress was, he saw as she turned, longer in the back than the front, and he realized that it had been designed for easy movement. A thick gray fox's tail hung from her waist. The clothes, while strange for a traveler, seemed much newer than he was used to.

She wore very little jewelry. A simple silver ring studded with amethyst. A thin silver bracelet. A delicate silver necklace. 

They accented her pale skin and made her seem to shine in the firelight.

There was also the fact that she was short, nearly seven inches shorter than himself, with pale ivory skin that was flushed slightly by her exertions. He spotted scars as she flitted about the room, although he was unable to catch a closer look.  He couldn't help but wonder if there were more, hiding beneath her clothes.

Her eyes were large: dark and bright all at once, a strange mix of the deepest green and the brightest golds, with long, dark, sweeping lashes that brushed against her high-boned cheeks when she blinked. Her hair was as bright as honey oats, ready to be harvested, and pulled back from her face in a messy bun; the style drew attention to her ears, which were pointed, if only slightly. Her bottom lip, which was full and the color of the lightest pink tourmaline, had a small scar on it, that ran down the length of her chin, but it did nothing to distract from her beauty.

"My name is Asha, by the by." The girl said in her soft voice, a wide smile spread across her lips as she noticed the dark haired Dwarf staring at her curiously. She looked at him and his brother with a crooked grin and slightly amused look, seemingly waiting for something. It was then that he realized that she was waiting for their names.

"Hello, Asha. I am Kili -"

"And I am Fili,-"

"-son of Dis, at your service." They bowed simultaneously, which made her giggle. Both brothers were pleased by this response to their introduction, as it meant that this woman found them pleasant rather than annoying and childish like most women accused them of being.

"Hello, Fili and Kili, sons of Dis. I'm glad to meet you." She gave them a little curtsy, ignoring the pain in her hip as it rotated, but the brothers could not miss her wince. Ignoring her own pain, she quickly smoothed out her skirt, a blush rising to her cheeks as she turned and flounced away.

Their introductions were left at that, as Balin called them to help move more of the furniture, leaving Kili to looked over his shoulder at Asha, who stood near the little Hobbit, a soft smile on her lips as she spoke softly, her gaze moving to rest on the Dwarves that moved through the room. A strange warmth spread through his chest, and he quickly shook his head, hurrying to help his kin arrange the dining room.


	8. Chapter Seven - An Unexpected Party

Asha was just rounding the doorway of the dining room when she heard a third knock sound at the door. There was a series of loud thuds and bitter cries from the foyer, and Asha leaned around the doorframe to see an avalanche of Dwarves laying prone of the floor of Bilbo's entryway. The Hobbit, meanwhile, was turning red from frustration and anger as he noticed Gandalf standing behind the Dwarves, all but bent double to peer through the doorway.

Asha laughed, covering her mouth to muffle the sound and both Kili and Fili quickly moved to her side to see what had caught her attention. They joined her laughter, their voices low and full of gravel.

The small Hobbit's home erupted in chaos as the Dwarves moved to their feet, each weaving around each other, streaming in and out of the pantry much like a line of ants, their voices rising as they spoke to each other. Asha, wincing at the noise, retreated to Gandalf's side, watching the Dwarves with wide eyes. She spied Bombur taking a bite of a biscuit before putting it back on the plate, as he whipped another plate he had just taken from a stack with his mitten, and this was after he had brought food into the dining room, one plate in each hand and one precariously balanced on his head. Bofur and Bifur were placing food on the table; Bifur speaking the entire time in the rough language of the Dwarves, making hand motions in Iglishmek as his cousins nodded. Ori spoke softly with Oin and Balin retreated into the kitchen, the smell of peppermint tea rising through the air.

Bilbo, for his part, was struggling to reclaim some vestige of control, his voice sounding ineffectively beneath the lower rumble of the Dwarves, who seemed to be discussing the merits of the available food.

Asha startled as she found herself caught in the path of the Dwarves, being tumbled this way and that as she fought to find a silent corner to hide herself away while the Dwarves talked amongst themselves. Dwalin grunted as she all but bounced from his chest, his lips set in a slight smirk. "Be best if ya got ya self ta the dining room, lass."

Nodding, Asha clambered to her feet and dashed into the dining room, which was no less crowded than the hallways. She sat at the furthest corner of the table, which moaned under the weight of the food being placed upon it.

The Dwarves were slowly finding their seats, and Asha watched as Dori came forward, a bright smile on his face. "Excuse me, Mr. Gandalf said that you may like a nice cup of tea."

"Please," Asha said with a smile, taking the large tankard from the Dwarf's hands, the warmth of the tea seeping into her skin. Taking a long sip, she smiled sweetly to the Dwarf and watched as he wandered away, taking a seat on the opposite side of the table.

Bilbo continued to sputter while Gandalf puffed on his pipe in a seat he had claimed as his own.

Fili hopped onto the table and walked the length, handing out ale as he went, whereas Kili meandered through the kitchen to get to his seat, the two brothers sitting on either side of her. Asha smiled as she began to eat the food placed before her and drink her pleasantly sweet tea.

"Would you like ale, lass?" Kili asked, offering a tankard.

"No, I don't drink ale," Asha admitted, wrinkling her nose at the foul liquid. "I never did like the taste."

What Kili may have said in response was drowned out by a roar of laughter at the other end of the table. Asha started slightly and smiled sheepishly as Kili smirked. The Dwarves were merry, obviously happy to see one another, and Asha found that any irritation they may have caused was balanced by the high spirits and quick smiles.

They were rambunctious to the edge of behind feral, such as when Bofur threw a boiled egg directly into Bombur's mouth from across the table, or when Fili grew tired of struggling to get out of his chair by conventional means and, instead, clambered up onto the table and walked down its length to refill tankards, and then back up again to regain his seat.

Bilbo, during all of this, grew very red in the face, and Asha worried for her adoptive brother.

When the Dwarves finally finished their meal, Asha slipped away from the table and fell into line next to her brother, who seemed to be close to a panic attack. Scoffing, Bilbo grabbed a doily from Nori, his face the same color as his prized tomatoes. "Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth!"

"But it's full of holes!" Bofur protested, causing Asha snort.

Bilbo only shook his head. "It's meant to be like that, it's crochet."

Bofur grinned. "Oh, and a wonderful game it is if you got the balls for it." His double meaning clear.

"Bebothered and confusticate these Dwarves!" Bilbo burst out suddenly, startling Asha.

Gandalf, it seemed, was rather startled as well. "My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?"

"What's the matter?" Bilbo asked his voice deadly calm. "I"m surrounded by Dwarves! What are they doing in my house?" He turned sharply on his heels, his eyes narrowed at his adoptive sister. "And why do so many of them seem to know you?"

"Oh." Gandalf interrupted quickly. "They're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them."

Bilbo paused to gaze at Nori, who had a chain of sausages slung over his shoulder, and then Bofur, who grabbed them. The two played tug-of-war for a moment before Bofur won and darted away with his prize.

"I don't want to get used to them. The state of my kitchen!" Bilbo cried out. "There's mud trod into the carpet, they've pillaged the pantry. I'm not even going to tell you what they've done to the bathroom; they've all but destroyed the plumbing! I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

Asha winced as Bilbo finished his rant, guilt washing over her in waves. She was saved by Ori, who came forward quietly, a plate in hand, and a slightly regretful smile on his face as he turned his gaze toward Asha. "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

Fili walked by at that moment, a large grin stretching across his face. "Here you go, Ori, give it to me." He snagged the plate from the smaller Dwarf's hands and promptly winged it in Kili's direction, who threw it behind his back to Bifur, who stood near the kitchen sink, catching the plate without looking. Fili, Kili, and the other Dwarves began throwing the plates, bowls, and utensils to each other, all ending at the sink to be washed. As dishware flew through the air, both Gandalf and Asha ducked to avoid being hit.

“Excuse me, that’s my mother’s West Farthing crockery, it’s over a hundred years old!” Bilbo yelled.“And can-can you not do that? You’ll blunt them!” Bilbo added as the Dwarves left sitting at the table began rhythmically drumming upon the wood with utensils and fists and the floor with feet.

Bofur chuckled. “Ooh, d’hear that, lads? He says we’ll blunt the knives.”

The Dwarves continued to toss the plates and other dishes and Kili started to sing a song that had Asha smiling and clapping her hands in time with the beat.

"Blunt the knives and bend the forks!  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!  
Chip the glasses and crack the plates!  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!

Cut the cloth and trail the fat!  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!  
Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;  
Pound them up with a thumping pole;  
And when you've finished, if they are whole,  
Send them down the hall to roll!

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

They truly were exceptional singers, and the music she heard was quickly on key with nary a flat or sharp note. She watched as Bifur washed all the dishes at record speed, after catching everything thrown at him without looking, as the rest of the Dwarves made a show, all but the apparently exasperated Balin, of tossing everything around, trying to give Bilbo a good scare.

Fili and Kili, she had the feeling, were being more dramatic for her benefit, as they both kept glancing her way as they did daring stunts with the pottery. She heard the lot of them laughing in the kitchen as she swiped at the smoke left in the hallway by their pipes, when, suddenly, there were three loud knocks on the door, causing everyone to fall silent, the bowls, cups, and plates all stacked up neatly on the table.

Asha watched with wide eyes as Gandalf leaned forward, his face sullen. "He is here."


	9. Chapter Eight - An Unexpected Company

The gathering rushed to the door, eager to see the newest member, and Asha was surprised to see an elder version of Kili standing in the doorway, dark hair streaked through with gray, his eyes just as bright, though his face harsher, with more lines.

Thorin, for his part, walked into the Hobbit's home, annoyed with his own lack of direction and the Wizards poor map that led through the maze that was the Shire. "Gandalf, I thought that you said that this place would be easy to find." Frowning, the Dwarf turned to glare at the Wizard. "I lost my way. Twice. I would never have found my way if the wolf had not shown me."

"Wolf?" Bilbo all but screeched. "There are no wolves in the Shire!"

Mora nosed her way past the Dwarf then, her dark fur rippling in the lamplight. "There is a wolf in the Shire, Bilbo," Asha smiled. "Mora, you remember my adoptive brother do you not?"

Bilbo stood in shock as the wolf approached him, nearly five hands higher than himself. "Asha, take her away. Outside! I will not have wild animals in my home!"

Asha's expression darkened as she listed to his words. "You will not speak to her as if she is a beast, Bilbo Baggins! Mora has saved my life more than once, and I'm sure that by the time the journey is over, she will have saved yours as well." Calming slightly, Asha rubbed her hands through the wolf's fur. "You met her as a pup, don't you remember? She's my friend, Bilbo, and she won't hurt you. She won't hurt any of you."

The Dwarves were clearly wary of Mora, and Asha could not find it in herself to blame them. She was a large wolf and, to the untrained eye, seemed as wild as the day she was born. It wasn't until she all but fell into the Ori's lap, begging to be petting, that they seemed to conclude that the wolf truly meant them no harm.

Thorin walked deeper into the Hobbit's home, growing ever more annoyed the longer he stood in the doorway. He became all the more cross when he spotted the Hobbit himself - small, round, with hairy feet and nothing truly noteworthy. The small woman's words shocked him a bit, but he chose to ignore her in lieu of stalking towards the creature that was meant to be their burglar.

"So, this is the Hobbit? Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" Thorin asked, his voice hard.

Bilbo appeared taken aback. "Pardon me?"

"Thorin scoffed. "Axe or sword? What is your weapon of choice?"

Bilbo frowned for a moment before answering. "Well, I have some skill at conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant." 

Thorin snorted, shaking his head. "I thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

The Dwarves all laughed while Bilbo became very red in the face, and Asha couldn't help but feel upset for her brother. Pointedly moving so that she stood next to Bilbo, Asha glared at the Dwarves as they walked back to the dining table, most of all Thorin, and many had the grace to appear shamefaced.

Mora, unconcerned by the upheaval surrounding her, moved so that she sat before the fireplace, a large yawn causing her tongue to curl and her back to arch. Without warning, the large wolf curled about herself once, twice, three times before falling to the floor in a tangle of limbs and tail.

Shaking her head at her friend's ability to fall asleep in any given situation, she followed after the gathering, who was slowly making their way to the dining room once more, speaking of a thick, hearty soup that had been left over.

Balin was the first to speak once they all found themselves seated at Bilbo's table once again. "What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?"

Thorin nodded, not taking his eyes away from his supper. "Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms."

The Dwarves began to murmur in obvious joy, their facial expressions brightening.

Dwalin stared hard at Thorin. "What do the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?"

Thorin shook his head. "They will not come. They say that this is our battle to fight."

As the Dwarves dived deeper into their conversation - how it would just be the lot of them retaking the mountain, as well as a few moments of nonsense about Gandalf killing many dragons - Bilbo came up behind them to listen and Asha found herself standing just to the side of the doorway, both to avoid being seen and to avoid the smoke from Gandalf and Bilbo's pipes, a smell she had never grown to enjoy.

When Bilbo spoke for the first time since the discussion had begun, Thorin turned to glance at him, but then his eyes landed on Asha and stayed there. His eyes held both a combination of bafflement and surprise, the expression soon morphing into one of confusion that bordered on anger.

Gandalf seemed to take Thorin's expression as his cue for an introduction.

"I see that you've finally noticed our lovely Asha. Asha Brystowe diSorvina, to be exact. I've called upon her aid for your quest, and I urge you to accept her into your company."

Thorin narrowed his eyes as his gaze moved between the woman and the Wizard before him, before turning to his Company, many of which seemed shockingly unsurprised. Both Fili and Kili looked pleased and excited, while Dwalin and Balin glanced between one another, only to turn to look at Asha, their expressions appraising.

Thorin finally broke the tense silence. "And what, pray tell, could this woman possibly do for us? How could we trust her?"

Before Asha could reply, Gandalf spoke for her. "Why, she is a skilled herbalist, with many medical talents. She can both cook and hunt. She knows the countryside that you will travel, although not as well as I might have hoped, she spent much of her young life as a nomad, never staying in one place for any length of time. She could provide insight from another perspective. She will help fight when things go awry, and, as I'm sure you well know, at least one thing will go awry on this journey." He gave the Dwarves a meaningful look.

"Ya' should trust tha' lass," Bofur said suddenly, his eye bright and a wide smile on his face. "She would be a' asset when we deal with men, or elves for tha' matter. Even more so given tha' fact tha' she bares no ill will towards Dwarves, unlike so many of her kin."

Thorin gave Bofur a questioning look. "And how do you know she bears Dwarves no ill will? Her presence here does not mean she is our friend."

Mora growled lowly then, her hackles raising, Thorin ire towards her friend clearly angering her, causing everyone in the room to start. She had moved to the doorway soundlessly, without so much as a click of her nails against the hardwood floors of Bilbo's home to alert them to her presence. Asha rubbed her friend's ears, shaking her head slowly. "Hush now."

Bofur returned Thorin's questioning look with a sheepish grin. "Well, ya see, we've been staying at 'er lovely cottage the past week or so." Thorin was still looking at him questioningly, his expression darkening as Bofur continued to speak. "Gandalf brought us ta 'er home and explained ta us tha she would be useful in our quest. She's been nothin' but kind and helpful, and when we wanted for food, she provided plenty without complaint."

Glowering, Thorin asked. "And why is it that none of you felt the need to mention this to me?" He scowled at the group before him.

"It didn't seem necessary," Oin said suddenly, his need for the ear horn gone, it seemed. "Bofur is right: Asha has been nothing but kind and helpful during our time spent with her, and I do believe that she could help us regain what we have lost."

"Aye, tha lass helped when she realized there would not be enough space for us all. She's been friendly an' respectful, na' a' all as rude as humans are ta Dwarves." Dwalin nodded at his own assessment. "She even allowed me ta eat wha' I now realize was 'er, an' Master Baggins dinner with nothing bu' a help ya self." He nodded at the affected parties. "She was even kind enough ta pour ale while I ate."

Asha snorted. "I did that because I was worried that you would choke, you were eating so quickly," Asha smiled at the younger son of Fundin, a smile he returned, in his own way. His grin ended up being a lopsided smirk that was more than partially hidden by his beard, while the other Dwarves chuckled at her comment.

Thorin looked to his nephews at the end of the table, his eyebrows raised. "And what do you two say about Miss Asha?"

"Just call me Asha. Miss has never suited me." Asha said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. For the first time since leaving her home that morning, she realized that the chances of traveling with her new found friends were slim.

Thorin ignored the woman's interjections, looking pointedly at his nephews, who fidgeted slightly under his gaze, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. "We agree with the others, Uncle, despite the fact we only just meet her tonight." Fili looked to Thorin as Kili began to speak. "Yes, she's rather helpful, Uncle. I think that you should allow her a chance, Uncle Thorin. After all, what possible harm could her presence cause?"

Gandalf interjected here. "You should listen to them, Thorin. I would not support her inclusion of I did not think she would be of help to you and your goal."

Bilbo spoke up then, his voice airy. "How would she help against a dragon?"

He was promptly ignored.

Thorin scowled as he thought. Nearly all the Dwarves supported the woman's inclusion in their company and, while he trusted their judgment, he did not understand why they were so willing to support her. Turning his gaze to the girl, he saw that she was no longer watching the Dwarves around her, but instead burying her face into the ruff of her wolf's neck, murmuring low under her breath. Having a human on their side when dealing with humans, or elves, Mahal forbid, would ultimately help them. He doubted she would be of much use otherwise. True, the Wizard stated that she was a talent when it came to the caring for wounds and cooking and hunting, but she was, after all, a woman, and a rather young one at that.

"Does anyone have any other opinions to provide? Any objections to this woman joining our company?"

There was a general murmur among the assembly of Dwarves, some whispering questions to those who had already had the chance to meet the woman. He heard Gloin asking about whether or not she would be allowed to have a portion of the treasure, but Dwalin quickly retorted that anyone who risked their life for the mountain would get their due, regardless of race. He then heard Nori mumbling about why a human would want to help a Dwarf, much less twelve of them, and Ori pointed out that she did live among Hobbits, which showed that perhaps she wasn't truly human and that Gandalf would not support someone who meant them harm. His easy reasoning hushed any questions on the subject.

Ori's assessment seemed to have gained Asha's attention, though, and Thorin noticed her eyes darting between the Dwarves, her teeth gnawing at her lower lip as if she debated something within herself.

The minutes past and Asha glanced at the Wizard for a moment, nervousness clear on her expression, but Gandalf gave her a comforting smile, for he knew she had won them over already.

Balin interrupted the conversations by looking up suddenly, his expression curious. "Tell me, lass, why would you want to help us? You stand to gain nothing, nor could you have known about the treasure when you set out, due to the fact Bofur here claims you made no mention of it. So, why would you help us?"

Asha stood quietly, head tilted to the side, much like a bird would, before shrugging her narrow shoulders. "I knew of the treasure, but I didn't say anything because I do not care for it. I have no need for gold or jewels, nor do I care for payment or riches. Gandalf came to me, nearly four weeks ago, and spoke to me of the Lonely Mountain. He told me of how it used to be before the dragon took it for its own. Of the happiness that spread through the tunnels, of the life and love and hope and family."

Pausing, Asha gazed at the Dwarves, but they knew that she did not see them, for her gaze was far away. "I had that once, a long time ago. But it was taken from me, violently, and I lost everything that day. My home, my family, everything. And when Gandalf told me your story, when he told me that you might have a chance to regain what you lost, I knew that I would help. Because, while I might never regain a home for myself, I can help you take back yours."

The Dwarves were silent, and slowly, ever so slowly, Asha returned to herself, seeing those before her, and their cheerless, horrified expressions. Asha smiled weakly at the group before turning to Thorin, eyebrows raised, awaiting an answer.

"Give the lass, and the Hobbit, the contract."


	10. Chapter Nine - An Unexpected Talent

Asha smiled softly, her eyes bright as she carefully balanced on the balls of her feet, swaying slightly.

"Wait, me?! Why in the world would I be coming along?" Bilbo looked entirely confused by how he had gotten dragged into this. "I am not a burglar! I have never stolen anything in my life!"

"Hobbits are incredibly light on their feet and can go completely unnoticed by most if they choose," Gandalf revealed his reason for choosing the Hobbit, and, surprisingly, Asha found it to make sense.

Ignoring the Hobbit's outburst, Thorin waved his hand, a heavy sigh falling from his lips, as he watched Balin scribble on a thick sheet of parchment for a moment, before handing it to Asha. She promptly began to read, mumbling to herself as she sank down into a chair, her eyes skimming over the words carefully. " . . . accidental or willful mishap . . . cash on delivery, up to and not exceeding one fourteenth - no fifteenth - of the total profit . . . death by . . . basically everything." Looking up, Asha's expression became wary. "Gandalf, I don't think I fancy the idea of death by everything."

Gandalf laughed, motioning for her to sign before she lost her nerve, causing Asha to frown. The Dwarves watched her closely as she continued to read the contract, turning the paper to and fro as she attempted to read the smaller print. On more than one occasion, she brought the papers to Gandalf, or Thorin or Balin, to clarify what a certain word meant. Finally, after several long minutes, Asha looked up, her skin deathly pale.

"So, lots of fire, hmm?" She questioned, her voice faint. "Never did like fire. And the way this reads, the chances of me getting out alive are . . ?"

"Slim. Moderate." Bofur said quickly in succession. "Oh, well, if the journey there doesn't kill ya first, then there are plenty of monsters an' nasties that might do you in. Plus, the dragon. One plume of fire an' poof, your nothin' but a pile of Asha, I mean ash." He joked, his expression bright.

Asha looked between the Dwarves and the contract for a moment, before cursing and snatching a quill from Gandalf's fingertips, signing her name in a flowing, curling script that Balin did not quite recognize, but could almost read.

She handed Bilbo the contract and moved away, seating herself between the youngest of the Dwarves, Kil, and Ori. Bilbo swallowed forcefully and promptly began to read, despite having heard Asha read the contract out loud only moments before, growing more and more worried as he did, the words laceration and incineration sending him into a fit.

Bofur chuckled. "Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."

Asha watched Bilbo carefully as he shook his head. He was growing pale, and she tensed, knowing that she would have to move quickly.

"You alright, laddie?"

Bilbo, still shaking his head, bent over, clearly nauseous. "Uh, yeah, I, uh, feel a bit faint.

"Think furnace with wings," Bofur said happily, leaping to his feet and to stand at the dining room doorway.

"Bofur . . ." Asha warned.

"Air, I - I - I need air." Bilbo panted.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then, poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash. Just like I told Asha." Bofur smiled.

"Bofur . . ." Asha said once more, her voice pleading.

Bilbo straightened, his breath deep and regular, and for a moment, Asha thought he was going to be fine. And then the blood drained from his face and he promptly fell. Before his head could hit the hard wooden floor, Asha vaulted over the table, her skirt billowing about her hips as she moved, and she gripped his shoulders tightly, looping her arms under his, although the position drug her to the floor as well.

"Oh, very helpful, Bofur." Gandalf sighed, staring at the Hobbit and the tiny woman, who now looked up at the group with wide eyes.

"Get him off me!" She gasped out. "He weighs as much as a horse!"

Moving forward, Gandalf carefully pulled the still unconscious Hobbit from the small woman's body. Together, the two moved Bilbo to his room. Shaking her head, Asha retreated from the Hobbit's room and all but collapsed onto Mora, who laid before the fire in the parlor once again. She was tired, and her ribs were sore from Bilbo's elbow slamming against them as she fell. As she dropped down onto her friend's back, Mora huffed in annoyance.

"Sorry, girl, but there aren't enough beds throughout the home for me to take one," Asha said softly, running her fingers through the wolf's fur. Mora seemed unsatisfied by her apology, because the next thing she knew, she was being tilted to the floor, her hip hitting painfully against the hardwood floor. "Mora!"

A roughly timbered laugh sounded to her left, and Asha straightened, only to find Kili looking down at her with a wide smile. "She doesn't seem to approve of being used as a bed."

Mora growled softly, a wolfish smile spreading across her lips. Asha nodded. "She says I'm too large to be treated like a pup."

"She says?" Kili wondered out loud.

Wincing, Ashlynn shrugged, unwilling to delve into the reasons behind her understanding the wolves of the world. Kili watched her for a moment before dropping to the floor, his booted feet passing hers easily as he leaned back against Mora. He shifted for a moment, and when he paused, their shoulders were all but pressed together. A silence stretched between the two, but it was not a silence that drew awkward attention, instead, it flowed between the two, calm and easy. Asha felt a strange sort of warmth burning through her chest, one that had been there throughout the night, but it seemed to have intensified with the sudden proximity of Kili by her side.

"Asha!" A voice called out suddenly, breaking the peaceful silence between Dwarf and woman. "Look what I found! Our Master Burglar says that it was yours."

Looking up, Asha was shocked to see the smooth, white wood of her lute, something she had thought to be gone long ago. The strings were well taken care of, without a speck of rust, or looseness present. Bofur smiled as he watched her expression morph into one of pure delight, her fingers twitching as she studied the instrument before her. "Play us a song." He pleaded, his voice sweet and low.

"I've not . . ." Taking the lute into her hands, Asha carefully ran gentle fingers over the strings. "I've not played in years. After Bilbo's mother, my adoptive mother, Belladonna died I stopped."

"I'm sure you'll remember." Bofur pushed, drawing the attention of the others. "Go on, Asha, play us a song."

And so she tuned the lute, sitting there in the rosy firelight, and played and hummed songs under her breath, thinking of all the times she had watched her mother do the same - playing songs for the village, of her brother playing his guitar and her singing harmonies. The firelight danced strangely over her amethyst ring, making the gem seem to glow like starlight.

In the background, she heard the sound of feet against the wood, the Dwarves drawing closer.

"I can hear you humming," Kili said softly, knocking his shoulder against her's. "Do you sing?"

Asha made a low noise of acknowledgment, still finger-picking idly.

"Are those your songs?"

"Some," Asha said softly. "Some are my mother's. Others, my brother's."

"Have you written any?"

She had written a thousand songs for her parents, for her family, for her life before her mother's death. "Yes."

"I'd like to hear it."

She didn't stop playing, just modulated carefully into a major key. For the first time in years, she sang out loud. It was a song that spoke of sorrow and loss, and the tone of the music reflected that.

"One thousand ways to say good-bye.  
One thousand ways to cry.  
One thousand ways to say your love before you go outside.  
I say good-bye good-bye good-bye.  
I shout it out so loud.  
Cause the next time that I find my voice I might not remember how."

Opening her eyes, she saw the Dwarves looking at her, a sad sort of awe written across their faces.

Kili looked down at her, his eyes like liquid in the firelight. "I don't know what to say."

"There isn't anything to say," Asha responded quietly, her voice thick with emotions.

Fili moved to her side then, sitting heavily to her right, while his brother pressed closer to her left. The Dwarves all seemed to be gathered around the fire, smoking their pipes and remembering. A gentle hum sounded through the room, and soon, Thorin began to sing, the other's joining him while Gandalf listened from nearby; Bilbo stayed hidden away in his room, but Asha was sure that he was listening.

Asha found herself with her head against Kili's shoulder, a large, calloused hand weaving through her hair as they listened to the Dwarves.

“Far over the misty mountains cold  
To dungeons deep and caverns old  
We must away ere break of day  
To find our long-forgotten gold

The pines were roaring on the height  
The winds were moaning in the night  
The fire was red, it flaming spread  
The trees like torches blazed with light”

The voices became blurry as the song came to an end, and Asha found her eyes closing, darkness creeping over her as she heard the Dwarves wandering to find a place to sleep on their own.


	11. Chapter Ten - An Unexpected Begining

That night, Asha half woke in the early morning, long before dawn, the room washed clean by the pale moonlight and found that she was pressed against Kili's back, her hands balled against her chest. She could just barely see the dark curve of his shoulder, and something about the shape it made, the gesture it suggested, filled her with a sort of fierce, awful affection. His body was warm and he smelled so good - like trees, and soil, and sunshine - that she buried her face in his shoulder and closed her eyes again. He made a soft noise and rolled his shoulders back against her, pressing closer.

It was then that she realized there was a heavy sort of weight atop her and she realized that Kili's cloak was thrown over her small form, much like a blanket.

Just before she drifted back to sleep again, her breathing slowing to match his, she had a brief, burning though: What if he knew what she was?

~~~

When Asha woke the next morning, she instantly shot straight up into the air, heart pounding. Her head was stuffed with dreams: Wolves and humans and blood smeared on her lips.

"Uhhhhgg," Kili mumbled, his voice thick with sleep, and pulled a sheet up around his neck. He rolled over, his dark hair barely visible above the edge of the sheet, and sank into the floor as if he had grown into the wood.

And that was it. Asha was awake, and no one else was.

She couldn't keep her thoughts together. She stood in the kitchen, staring at the cabinets, her mind racing as her other half struggled to escape.

"Asha, you are Asha." She told herself firmly, rubbing her amethyst ring.

~~~

When the others woke, they wandered into the dining room, shocked to see a breakfast spread out across the table, born from a second, and last, raid of Bilbo's pantry. Eggs and bacon and sausage. Biscuits and muffins and hotcakes. Jams and syrups and butter.

Kili and Fili staggered into the kitchen, where they found Asha stirring oatmeal in a pot large enough to feed a small army it seemed. Or thirteen hungry Dwarves. Kili joined her at the counter and leaned against it, peering down into the pan. Asha could tell that he wasn't pleased by the prospect of oatmeal.

"How long have you been awake?" Fili asked sleepily, his eyelids drooping as he scratched his ribs.

Asha smiled ruefully, the dark circles under her eyes informing the brothers of her sleepless night. "Awhile." She stated evasively. "Get me some bowls, would you?" Kili set them on the counter and Asha divided the oatmeal between them, releasing a sweet scent. "Take these to the others. Tell them to try it or I'll smack them with a wooden spoon. If they don't like it after they've tried it, they don't have to eat it."

With a nod, Kili and Fili staggered back to the dining room, carrying the bowls carefully. Asha could hear the protests from the Dwarves but they soon settled down as she sent out hot tea and honey. Drifting into the dining room, she grabbed her own bowl and quickly swallowed a spoonful - it was all brown sugar and maple and cinnamon.

Kili pointed an oatmeal-covered spoon at her. "This stuff is sticky."

"Ingrate," Asha said, rolling her eyes as she continued to eat. "If you don't like it, then don't eat it. At least you tried."

"It's actually okay," Fili said sleepily, a yawn interrupting his sentence.

The rest of the breakfast passed in silence, although she noticed that not a single Dwarf turned away her oatmeal. Very few seemed to be a morning person: Bofur, Bifur, and Gandalf. Mora, as it turned out, did not enjoy the mornings and sat sullenly in the corner of the kitchen, growling softly at anyone who dared walk near her.

Asha, for her part, fell asleep at the table at one point, head resting against Dwalin's shoulder and her hair falling into her face. The Dwarves all chuckled heartily as Dwalin ceased all movement and turned to stare at the little woman sitting next to him, completely unconcerned by the fact that she was now using the bald, tattooed Dwarf as a pillow. It wasn't until Mora sneezed - a great rattling sound that nearly shook the walls - that Asha awoke with a start, her hand flying out to grip her spoon much like it was a dagger or knife. As she blinked blurrily at those around her, the Dwarves began to laugh loudly, each one imitating her sudden movements with their own spoons.

They quickly stopped when Asha turned red and threw her spoon at Fili, her voice childish with sleep as she bit out. "It's not funny!" Before stomping away to finish donning her traveling gear and arrange her pack.

Asha quickly bathed before slipping back into her dress. She threw her bow and quiver on her back, then slipped her leather arm guards over her wrists, pulling the laces tight. It was a simple task to fill her leather bag with a supply of fresh clothes - most of which included breeches and loose tunics - soaps, non-perishable food items, a flint box, several filled water skins and flasks, and a soft, oiled sheepskin bedroll. Before exiting the bathroom, she pulled her hair into a tight knot atop her head.

Gandalf, while the other's finished preparing for their journey, slipped from the house, and nearly an hour later the Dwarves, and Asha besides, evacuated the Hobbit's home. They found Gandalf standing just down the longest dirt road of the Shire, where he had a single brown horse and fifteen ponies tied away.

Asha ran forward and quickly began to stroke the nose of Ava, the smallest of the group, and her little buckskin. She spoke a few quiet words to the filly, before smacking her rump. The little buckskin, the smart filly that she was, quickly headed down the lane, back towards the Shire, and to the home of Frodo and his parents. She knew that they would take good care of the little filly, and Frodo had an awfully strong attachment to the pony beside.

The Dwarves watched her exchange with the pony with raised eyebrows, but when she turned to glance back at them, they merely shook their heads and began to mount their ponies.

Snorting at their gangly attempts to mount their ponies, Asha clambered to straddle Mora who, she noticed not for the first time, was developing a silver haze at the muzzle and ears, her paws and the tip of her tail. Her once pure black fur was graying and, while Asha knew that she was growing old, she couldn't bare to think of her friend passing.

And so they sat out.

Asha discovered that the time spent riding passed quickly as the group chatted and discussed their coming journey. Their discussions had led to the current argument over Bilbo appearing or not. Asha was positive that her adoptive brother would show, and had bet nearly all of the gold she had brought with her on it, looking forward to making a hefty profit.

The Dwarves that trusted her well, namely the younger ones, the Broadbeams and Balin and, unexpectedly, Oin, bet along with her and Gandalf, whereas Dori abstained because he thought gambling was in bad taste (and proceeded to glare at his two brothers for participating), while Thorin, Dwalin, Gloin, and Nori bet against Bilbo because they felt the little Hobbit would be too scared to leave him home and face the world.

Only an hour passed before their bet was settled.

Asha was the first to hear the Hobbit's frantic cries, and she patted Mora's shoulder, signaling for her to stop, if only for a moment. The other's watched her curiously, reining in their ponies, while she pressed a finger to her lips, pointing down the thin dirt road they had just traveled down. A moment past, and, quite suddenly, Bilbo appeared from behind the trees, waving the contract wildly. "Wait! Wait! I signed it!" Smiling happily, the Hobbit handed the contract to Balin, his face flushed from running. "I signed it!"

Looking at the parchment before him, Balin inspected the contract with a pocket-glass before smiling at Bilbo. "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

The Dwarves cheered, but loudest of all Asha, who had won back enough gold to buy supplies to last the trip, and then some.

Thorin, unfortunately, didn't seem to be impressed. "Give him a pony."

Bilbo looked up quickly, his face quickly draining to white. “No, no, no, no, that - that won’t be necessary, thank you, but I - I’m sure I can keep up on foot. I - I - I - I’ve done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. I even got as far as Frogmorton once - WAGH!” Bilbo's speech was abruptly cut off as Fili and Kili rode up alongside him and picked him up from behind before putting him on a pony.

As Bilbo was lifted to his pony, Oin looked up with a glint in his eyes. "Come one, Nori, pay up. Go on."

Nori sighed and quickly tossed a sack of money to Oin, and Asha couldn't help but laugh as she watched sacks of money begin to pass between the Dwarves.

"Hey, hey, hey!" One cried out, but Asha had her eyes trained on Bilbo, who was gazing around with confused eyes.

"What's this about, then?"

Gandalf smirked. "Oh, they all took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

Bilbo frowned. "What did you two think?"

Gandalf sat silently for a moment, as did Asha, before they both shot a hand out, catching their share of the money and putting it into their bags. Asha's was, it seemed, much larger than all the others.

"Bilbo!" Asha began, her eyes bright and chaotic.

"We never doubted you for a second." Gandalf finished, clearly pleased with himself.

Bilbo nodded, before sneezing suddenly and loudly, causing Asha to startle on Mora, nearly falling off. "Ohh, all this horse hair, I'm having a reaction."

Asha watched as Bilbo began to search his pockets for his handkerchief but, when he was unable to find it, he looked up in shock, quickly pulling his pony to a stop. "No, no, wait, wait, stop! Stop! We must turn around."

The Company came to a halt then, and the Dwarves started objecting to it, asking what the problem was, while Asha merely shook her head, using her heels to prod Mora into motion.

Gandalf sighed. "What on earth is the matter?"

"I forgot my handkerchief."

Bofur snorted, tearing a strip of cloth from his clothing before tossing it easily to Bilbo, who caught it and held it as if it were going to attack him. "Use that!"

The Dwarves all laughed at the scene before them, and even Asha couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as Bilbo continued to look at the scrap of cloth in disgust.

Thorin sighed, kicking the ribs of his pony lightly. "Move on."

Gandalf smiled and leaned forward to softly pat the Hobbit upon the head. "You’ll have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins before we reach our journey’s end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you; the world is ahead.”

And so began the quest for Erebor.


	12. Chapter Eleven - An Unexpected Terror

They ran. They were silent, dark drops of water, rushing over brambles and around the trees as the Orcs drove them forward.

The woods she knew, the woods that had always protected her, were punched through by their sharp odors and their shouts. She scrambled here and there among the others of her kind, guiding and following, keeping her family together. The fallen trees and underbrush felt unfamiliar beneath her feet; she kept from stumbling by flying - long, endless leaps, barely touching the ground.

It was terrifying to not know where she was.

They traded simple images among themselves in our wordless, futile language: dark figures behind, figure atop beasts that smelled of death and decay; motionless, cold bodies; the smell of death in their nostrils.

They were being hunted.

~~~

Asha bolted upright on her bedroll, her heart pounding, eyes wide, tears tracing salty tracks down her cheeks. Drawing her knees to her chest, Asha shoved her fist against her mouth, muffling the sounds of her sobs.

"Ya alrigh', lass?"

Her head swiveled so quickly towards the voice, her neck cracked violently. But it was only Bofur. Bofur. Because he had the last watch of the night. He stared at her closely, concerned, as her eyes closed, and she forced herself to breathe.

"M'm fine, Bofur." Asha croaked hoarsely into her knees, the threat of tears still very much real. "I didn't sleep well, is all."

Bofur watched the tiny woman for a moment before nodding, unconvinced. He continued to study her, even as he watched their surroundings.

The Dwarves knew that the lass suffered from night terrors if the two weeks past now was any indication. They knew not what her dreams were of, for she refused to speak of them.

She had hoped, prayed even, that the grueling pace Thorin had set for the group would leave her without enough energy to dream, yet it never did. She had even taken up fighting with Dwalin of the evenings, after helping set the camp up, but even that was not helpful, although the Dwarves held a new kind of respect for the lass, after seeing her fight for the first time.

Her instincts were good, and Gloin and Dwalin had both been surprised by their discovery. Her speed, agility, flexibility, and spatial awareness had shown them all what she was truly capable of, should she ever grow angry. Her fighting strategy, as it were, was something she had mastered over the course of the years - spinning and slashing with two small twin daggers, ducking and dodging her enemies, rolling to the side before launching into the air from a crouched position. She watched her adversary carefully, especially since the Dwarves were much more powerful than her, and would wait for the right moment to strike. When she did attack, it was both precise and filled with purpose - a powerful attack that was strong enough to send both Fili and Kili reeling with the motion.

Yet she still dreamed at night.

Gandalf had frowned when he had discovered that his ring had done her little help, but he had insisted that she keep it, if only as a pretty bauble from a friend.

Shivering deeply, Asha took up her bedroll and moved to join Bofur near Mora, who he leaned against, eyes downcast.

Before she settled comfortably, Bofur sighed. "Would you care ta share jus' what' it's been about your dreams tha' make ya look so scared when ya wake?"

Asha turned to study the Dwarf's face before she spoke, taking note of his eyes, which scanned the area around them before flitting back to her, then repeating the scan. He looked a little more tired than he had when they had left Bag's End, and a little more unkempt because his braids were beginning to unravel, but that was to be expected, she supposed, after riding ponies all day and then sleeping on the ground. The actions were not pleasant, but, then again, neither was the smell of a group of Dwarves, a Hobbit, and a Wizard who hadn't bathed in two weeks. Asha refused to travel in filth and made a point of finding a creek or river to bath in every night.

When she didn't answer for a moment, the Dwarf to her left looked back to her, his brows drawn together from worry.

Bofur was truly a sweet and kind Dwarf, worrying over everyone who made up the Company, even if they were not close, like her and Bilbo, who didn't have any family in the Company to keep an eye on them. Though she was still a mystery of sorts to the Company, he still found himself growing fond of the young lass, and he knew that nearly all the other Dwarves felt the same.

Asha had relieved, during a lunch break that consisted of bread and cheese being passed through the Company without stop, that she had never known her name day, and, instead, celebrated the day as the first day of winter every year.

Following that tidbit of information, Kili asked her how old she was, for which he was promptly smacked upside the head by Fili and Bofur both, with Dori behind reminding the young prince that is was incredibly rude to ask a woman her age.

Asha had only laughed and explained that she rounded up her years to nearly fifty, although she admitted that she could, and probably was, wrong.

The Dwarves had all been shocked by her easy reply, and Asha turned to find the group looking at her, their faces slack. For a human, she was growing old, yet she appeared to be no further past her twenties than a human could be.

For a Dwarf, she was just still just a child. They all realized at that moment just how young she truly was, but it was her mannerisms and the way she viewed the world that had inspired a protective streak in the Company, Thorin included. They wondered, though, at her age, and asked repeatedly why she appeared so young - questions she ignored or countered with her own.

Thorin, after a long day of riding, had grown ill-tempered with the lass. "You will inform me as to why you seem ageless." His voice was hard, but he would not have the woman keeping secrets, possibly dangerous secrets, from him and his comrades.

Asha had stared at Thorin, not expecting the hostile reaction to her refusal to reveal her race.

"I am, as far as I know, the last of my kind, Thorin Oakenshield. I do not tell you what I am, for I fear that you will distant me for it. I'm sorry." Her chagrined expression showed that she did, indeed, regret any insult that the Dwarves might have taken from her lack of clarity, her eyes growing glassy with unshed tears that refused to fall. "It's dangerous. Dangerous for me to tell you, and for you to know. I do know this, though: My father was a Dwarf. Only my father, though. Maybe that is why I do not seem to age like others."

Thorin, it seemed, had felt like a proper ass for becoming angry at the lass, and the glares he had received from Balin, Gandalf, Bilbo, Oin, Dori, Bofur, and his nephews had shown their disapproval of his ill temper.

Ori, normally a kind, timid hearted Dwarf, glared at Thorin as he moved forward, gently leading the lass from the group, soft words falling from his lips as he tried to assure her that it mattered not what she was, for they liked her for her, and nothing could change such a thing.

Asha had been nothing but nice since the day they had met her, in Ori's opinion, and the two had spent many hours while riding discussing Dwarven culture. She was always curious and asked many questions about everything Ori told her. Balin had told her of their history. How they had been made by Mahal. How Durin the Deathless had been the one to gather the seven Dwarvish clans and make the first Dwarven kingdom. How he was the ancestor of their own three royals.

Dori spoke of Dwarrows being devoted to their crafts, whether it be smith or stone worker or scribe, to the point that many never married.

When she had asked about the place of Dwarven women in their society, Ori explained that they were greatly treasured, because they were so few, and how many Dwarrowdams were as devoted to their crafts as the males of their race. He told her they were as fierce fighters as the males. How they had equal, nearly equal, standing in their society. Of course, he said quickly, they were expected to behave in a womanly fashion, but it did not keep them from being as rambunctious and loud as a male.

The conversation of women in dwarven society had led to a discussion about the scarcity and sacredness of Dwarflings to Dwarves. Asha had found it sweet and comforting, as well as entirely appropriate, to discover that little ones were watched by all members of dwarven society, regardless of whether they were family or not, and Dwarves were very concerned with family ties, titles, status, and wealth. All children were to be protected and taken care of and to hurt a child made one the worst kind of criminal.

It made sense now, her strange want to know about them and their people.

Asha had commented, rather lightly, that it reminded her of home, for her own people watched after their own with a fierce sort of devotion.

"I remember feeling, and they are not ones that elect a peaceful sleep," Asha spoke suddenly, her voice nearly a whisper, drawing Bofur from his thoughts and dragging his eyes to her face, which was pale. "Sometimes I remember images. Running through the forest. Blood. Death." Pausing, Asha took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's not things that I want to remember. It's not things that should be remembered. That is why I do not speak of it."

Bofur stared at the little lass for a moment, assessing the truth of her words, before sighing, his gaze returning to the surrounding area.

And so the early morning passed; Asha found herself sitting with her lute in hand, her fingers moving across the strings in some rapid fingerpicking piece that she'd never played before, but felt right. She began to hum, her voice light as she watched the sun rise over the horizon.


	13. Chapter Twelve - An Unexpected Argument

Days turned into weeks and the weeks soon turned into a month and Asha found herself singing as they rode, her light, lithing voice paired with the deep bass of Fili, who was, it seemed, more than slightly tone deaf, and the low, rich tenor of Kili and Bofur. On occasion the others would join as well, making for a richly diverse harmony, but, more often than not, it was just the four of them. Kili seemed to sing more often than his brother, riding beside Asha so they could hear each other over the sound of hooves against dirt and stone, and the low conversations that never seemed to die throughout the Company.

The two, when not singing, would often talk about their past lives; Kili loved to tell stories from his childhood, about growing up within Ered Luin, Ori and Fili joining in occasional to throw a fact out, or correct their friend of an event. He spoke often of a friend named Gimli, and Asha learned that it was none other than Gloin's son.

From their words, they were well known for leaving a trail of mischief and mayhem in their wake.

They talked the days away, learning more about one another - Kili only seeming more charming, sweet, and funny in Asha's eyes, while she did the same in his.

Of all the Dwarves, Kili was the most attractive, in Asha's opinion of course, but it was not because he was handsome. He was real, he as living, a breathing person, and he was kind and sweet and thoughtful, as well as funny and honest. He wasn't just those things, a person was never that one-dimensional: there was a sadness about him, and shame, there, in his eyes, a look of disappointment, but also hints of defiance and determination.

Asha did not know what it was that brought those emotions upon him, but she could wager a guess.

Kili wasn't like the other Dwarves, that much was obvious even to the most oblivious of people. His favored weapon and the one he was the most skilled at was the bow. He didn't have a full beard. He lacked his Fili's and Thorin's regal, commanding, presence, their more logical minds. Quite simply, he was nothing like a person would expect from the heir to a throne. He was soft-hearted, too kind, too much of everything he shouldn't be, and not enough of anything he should be.

Asha knew that Fili wouldn't change his nadadith, his little brother, for the world, and she was sure that Thorin wouldn't either, if only because they knew that a person like him was a precious and rare gift to the world; that an open heart with a kind, keen mind, one that could see the light in the darkest night, was a candle to others who would otherwise be lost in the same darkness.

She knew, though, that the others did not notice that darkness that darkened Kili's own light. Asha couldn't help but think that the disappointment she saw in his eyes was directed toward himself.

Asha and Kili had a lot in common, and the seemed to know such instinctively, thus, they became close friends in the first month or so of their journey through shared conversations, shared songs, and shared stories. Their growing friendship was only strengthened when Kili discovered that had a natural skill with the bow, as Kili himself did, another commonality between the two.

The day they spoke of her past seemed to be the hottest day of her life. Even under of the tall trees, the heat crept in around them all and pressed against them in waves. Atop Mora, Asha slouched back, her spine aligned with the wolf's, and sucked in the summer as if she could hold every drop of it inside her. As the hours crept by, the afternoon sunlight bleached the world around her to a pale, gilded version of itself, and warmed the soil beneath so that the smell of unlived life hung in the air.

Her lute lay across her stomach and her fingers idly picked at the strings, the moments passing slowly as she composed the lyrics and imagined the riff that would accompany the song she was forming in her head.

"I can hear you humming," Kili said suddenly. "What are you singing?"

Lazily opening one eye, Asha glanced to her right, where Kili sat atop his pony. For once, due to the fact she was now laying atop Mora, she had to look up to see his face. Since they had begun traveling, it had always seemed to be the other way around, despite Kili being so much taller than her. She shrugged, still idly fingerpicking. "A new song."

"What about."

Shrugging, Asha smiled. "The Lonely Mountain. Or the Company." Pausing, she frowned slightly, shifting so that both legs were slung over Mora's right shoulder, her bare feet resting against her neck. Kili couldn't help but stare at the smooth expansion of her legs, so unlike the Dwarven women he had known, and noticed, for the first time, the tattoos that adorned her feet. They were wolf paws, the lines of fur thick and heavy, and they followed the line of her own feet perfectly. "I think it's about both - the Company reclaiming the Lonely Mountain. Finding their home."

"Sing it for me."

Asha smiled, the sounds emitting from the strings flowing into a rhythm, the tune playing itself again and again. And then she opened her mouth and began to sing.

"We're a phoenix in the water,  
A fish that's learned to fly,  
And we've always held our honor,  
But feathers are meant for the sky.

And so we're wishing, wishing further,  
For the excitement to arrive,  
It's just we'd rather be causing the chaos,  
Then laying at the sharp end of this knife.

With every small disaster,  
We'll let the waters still,  
Take us away to some place real.

'Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone,  
Is where you go when you're alone,  
Is where you go to rest your bones,  
It's not just where you lay your head,  
It's not just where you make your bed,

As long as we're together, does it matter where we go?

Home.

So when we're ready to be bolder,  
And our cuts have healed with time,  
Comfort will rest on our shoulder,  
And we'll bury our past behind.

We'll always keep it with us,  
It'll be always on our mind,  
But there's a shining in the shadows,  
We'll never know unless we try.

With every small disaster,  
We'll let the waters still,  
Take us away to some place real.

'Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone,  
Is where you go when you're alone,  
Is where you go to rest your bones,  
It's not just where you lay your head,  
It's not just where you make your bed.

As long as we're together, does it matter where we go?

Home.

'Cause they say home is where your heart is set in stone,  
Is where you go when you're alone,  
Is where you go to rest your bones,  
It's not just where you lay your head,  
It's not just where you make your bed,

As long as we're together, does it matter where we go?"

Kili reached forward as the song came to an end and tweaked her ear with his fingertips, drawing her attention. The Company stared at her in astonishment. It was Ori who spoke first, his voice high with elation.

"Will you sing that again? I want to record the lyrics, and I didn't catch all of them." He asked, his expression bright.

And so Asha went over the verses once, twice, three times. As she sang the song, again and again, she leisurely began to weave her fingers through her hair, the rich strands catching the light of the sun, making them darker and brighter all at once.

"Asha?" Kili started as a lapse grew between Ori and the lass. "What was your mother like?"

Asha paused, her fingers tangled in several knots, her eyes wide. "She died when I was very young. Only seventeen at the time, just a few days before my eighteenth name day. I don't remember her well. Why?"

Kili shrugged. "You never talk about your past, but you seem to know everyone else's now. I thought it only fair that we know something about yours."

Asha narrowed her eyes, but a glint in her eyes gave away that she was only jesting. "Is that your way of telling me I'm a spy?"

Kili flushed red and the Company roared at his discomfort. "I - of course not! I just never - I mean to say -"

Asha nearly fell from Mora as she began to laugh. Tears streamed from her eyes due to her mirth, and she clutched at her ribs. "I was only joking!"

The redness from Kili's face did not fade, and he stared at his hands. "I only wanted to know why you seem to strange at times."

Asha's smile slipped from her face, only to be replaced by an angry scowl. "My people lost track of the world for many, many years, Kili, and they were often strange to those outside of our villages. But for my people, I am perfectly normal. You'll do well to remember that, Master Dwarf." Asha finished, her voice as cold and hard as ice.

With that she rode ahead, her heels prompting Mora to move quickly so that she was positioned between Gandalf and Thorin. Her face was red, and her eyes glassy, yet she said not another word. Instead, she sat in stony silence, staring straight ahead, remembering times when her attitude, her height, her figure, her ability would not have made her strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:   
> Nadadith ~ Brother / Younger brother
> 
> Songs Sung:  
> "Home" by Gabriella


	14. Chapter Thirteen - An Unexpected Tale

Asha was too hot. The bedroll stuck to her damp skin; she tasted sweat at the corner of her lips. As the wind howled, her skin tingled with heat, a hundred tiny needle pricks that ran down her body before traveling up again. Everything felt painful: the sheep-skin cover's uncomfortable weight on her, Kili's cold hand on her hip, the wailing high cries of the wind that existed only in her head, the shape of her skin on her own body.

She was asleep; She was dreaming; She was awake, coming out of a dream. She couldn't decide.

In her mind, she saw all the people she'd ever seen shift into their other selves: Her Brother, mournful and tired, her Father, strong and controlled, her Uncle, savage and primitive, her Mother, swift and easy. They all observed Asha from the forest, dozens of eyes watching her: the outsider, the one who wouldn't change.

Asha's tongue stuck to the roof of her sandpaper mouth. She wanted to lift her face from the damp pillow, but it felt like too much trouble. She waited restlessly for the feeling to pass, but her body hurt too much.

Looking at her hands, she imagined them brilliantly golden, the same shade as her hair. She felt the weight of a ruff hanging on her shoulders, felt nausea shudder through her body.

And then for a single moment, she felt nothing but the cold air of the night and heard nothing but her own ragged breathing. But then the wind began to howl again, and her body shuddered with a sensation that was both new and familiar.

She was going to shift.

Asha choked on her other self as it rose up inside of her, pressing against the lining of her stomach, clawing at her skin, trying to peel her apart from the inside out.

She wanted it, and her muscles burned and groaned.

Pain rocked through her.

She had no voice.

She was on fire.

She sprang from her bedroll, shaking off her skin.

~~~

Asha awoke human, though her bedroll was twisted and stank of her other self. Her breathing was ragged, her skin cold, and, for a moment, she could not remember where she was.

It was Golin who finally brought Asha to herself again, his rattling snores reminding her of her surroundings.

The Company had come to a stop for a night, the mood tense as they set up camp, all knowing of the anger directed toward the youngest prince, despite a week or so passing since the spat between the youngest of the Company. Their campsite was a small cliff side, close to a river, yet far enough away that the roar of the water was a mild murmur.

The night had been clear and Asha, tired beyond words had fallen asleep the moment she had climbed into her bedroll. She had felt sick. Sick from arguing with Kili, sick from doubt, sick from the unknown. More than sick - restless, unsettled. Too many unanswered questions: Would they accept her? Would they hate her? Would they attack her, as many outsiders were want to do when they learned of her nature?

Her eyes settled on Golin, who snored loudly, a handful of tiny flying insects being pulled into his mouth as he inhaled. She saw that Bilbo was watching as well, although his gaze was one of disgust, rather than amusement. Finally, after a moment, the Hobbit shook his head and shot to his feet, walking almost silently to the ponies.

Asha sighed and took his movement as her cue to drag herself into a sitting position, her eyes trained on the night around her. Nearly all the Dwarves were sleeping, it seemed, and only Bilbo, Gandalf, and Fili and Kili remained awake. Bilbo, she saw, was holding out a shiny apple to his pony.

Asha sighed once more and dragged her pack before her, pulling a small, silver hairbrush from the side pocket. The bristles were soft and as she worked her hair from the lop-sided bun atop her head she noted Kili watching her with interest.

Pointedly ignoring the Dwarf, she began to drag the brush through her hair, taking care to remove the knots that had developed during her uneasy rest.

The dreams only served as a reminder of what she was. Her attitude turned sour once more as she remembered Kili's thoughtless comment. The fact that he didn't seem to understand the insult he had handed to her only served to infuriate her further.

She was not strange. She was not human. She was strong and brave and beautiful and feral and . . . unnatural.

Asha didn't want to agree. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to scream and fight and prove all who had ever told her that her existence was an accident, that her kind was never meant to be, how wrong they truly were.

The words thrown at her from the mouths of villagers began to haunt her.

Bizarre.

Abnormal.

Freak.

Monster.

Cursing low under her breath, she yanked viciously at the brush, only to whimper as it ripped a small section of her hair from her scalp.

"Come here." Looking up, Asha saw Kili motioning to the area before his knees. "At the rate you're going, you're not going to have any hair to brush come morning. Come here."

Shaking her head, Asha turned away from the Dwarf, her motions with the brush never ceasing. As she turned to stare at the fire, she realized that Kili was acting as a second shadow, standing behind her with an awful, angry expression on his face. After a moment, he sighed and dropped behind her, his legs crossed and knees pressing against her back. Without warning, he snagged the brush from her hands and pulled it away. Asha stiffened, her shoulders squaring as she prepared to snap at the young prince.

"Your stubborn, you know that?" Kili said lowly, the brush already gliding through her hair easily, the knots melting beneath his hands. They sat in silence for a moment, Asha's body nearly quivering with unspoken violence towards the Dwarf. "I'm don't want you to continue being angry with me." His said his tone pleading. "I'm sorry I said what I did. It wasn't meant as in insult, but I know that is how you took it. It's true that I find you strange. I've never known anyone who acts as you do or talks the way you do or thinks like you. You're different from everyone I've ever known."

Asha closed her eyes. For a brief moment she wished that she did not hear his words for what they were, but she did.

"You've never talked about your people, you know," Kili said. Her hair had long since lost its snarls and tangles, yet he continued to brush it, the bristles gliding over the soft strands. "You never talk about yourself either."

Asha sat quietly, her knees pulled to her chest, her chin resting on her arms. In the firelight, her amethyst ring cast strange and exotic patterns across her face. "Kili . . . I -"

"Why is it so dangerous?" Kili interrupted. "Do you think us weak?"

Asha shook her head, not daring herself to speak. Kili didn't understand. He didn't know the half of it. She was awash with multicolored emotion that was guilt and self-loathing and uncertainty and nerves and fears all rolled into one. She didn't know what was worse: not telling him of her past, her present, her race, her other half, or telling him. She did know one thing: She wouldn't be able to un-tell him once it was said. And so she merely continued to shake her head.

"Don't be stupid." She finally said, her voice low, and filled with pain. "I - I'm scared. I'm scared that once you learn what I truly am you will hate me for it. It's happened every time. No matter how long I'd known the person, once they were shown what I was . . . . I've lost everyone, everyone, and I can't lose anyone else. I won't lose anyone else just because I am a C-" Asha stopped. Not a pause. A full stop, the sort the drew a certain kind of silence to it.

"Asha," Kili said, pulling her back against his chest. "Asha, we don't care what you are. You'll never lose us."

"You can't promise that, Kili." Asha sighed. "I'm sorry that I acted so. I shouldn't have." After a long pause, interrupted only by the sound of their breath, Asha spoke again. "My mother was beautiful, and she was so very, very smart. She could sing like a songbird. When I was a child she would sing to me after a night-terror. And she taught me how to mix herbs together and play my lute. She was . . . everything to me. And then she died as I was left in the care of my Grandfather. My violent, drunken Grandfather, who hated me because I looked too much like my mother."

Before Kili could respond, a scream sounded through the night air, prompting Bilbo to run back to the group, his eyes wide as he stared at his adoptive sister, who sat back to chest with the Dwarven prince. "What was that?"

"Orcs," Kili said with a small snort.

Thorin, who had been dozing, jerked awake upon hearing the word Orc, just as another scream ripped through the air.

"Orcs?"

Fili nodded, moving to stand near his brother. "Throat-cutters. There’ll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them.”

“They strike in the wee small hours when everyone’s asleep. Quick and quiet; no screams, just lots of blood.” Kili added, causing a shiver to travel along Asha's spine, a quiet growl rising from her throat, although no one seemed to take notice.

Bilbo looked away, clearly frightened, while Fili and Kili both looked at one another and began to snicker quietly.

"You think that’s funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?” Thorin all but snarled, his eyes cloudy.

Kili froze, mid-laugh. "We didn’t mean anything by it.”

Thorin shook his head. “No, you didn’t. You know nothing of the world.”

Asha watched the Dwarf king closely as he moved to the edge of the cliff, looking out over the valley through half stilted eyes. Balin sighed and walked to Fili and Kili, his expression depressing. “Don’t mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient Dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of Orcs lead by the most vile of all their race: Azog, the Defiler. The giant Gundabad Orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the King. Thrain, Thorin’s father, was driven mad by grief. He went missing, taken prisoner or killed, we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us. That is when I saw him: a young Dwarf prince facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe, his armor rent…wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated. But there was no feast, no song, that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then, there is one who I could follow. There is one I could call King." Balin finished, his voice thick with emotion.

Thorin turned away from the view beyond the cliff, only to find the entire Company awake and standing in awe, all but Asha, who sat cross-legged by the fire, staring deeply into the flames, her eyes filled with tears.

Thorin walked between his brothers in arms and moved toward the fire, eye downcast.

"But the pale orc? What happened to him?"

“He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago.” Thorin bit out, his voice harsh.

Shuddering, Asha turned so that her face was buried in the crook of Kili's neck, his familiar scent of sunshine and earth calming her racing heart. Balin's story, while nothing more than past history, had sent a spark of terror through her chest. Kili, seeming to understand her distress, wrapped an arm around her shoulder and carefully stroked his finger through her hair.

To the side, if you listened hard enough, you could have heard Fili laughing softly. "I guess she's forgiven him. About time."

Dwalin nodded in agreement. "When do you think they'll realize . . ?"

Fili snorted. "Knowing my brother? Never."


	15. Chapter Fourteen - An Unexpected Storm

Asha's patchwork life: Quite days spent traveling, legs growing sore from riding Mora for such extended periods of time, tea on the Company's breath, the unfamiliar landscape of her own skin, the smell of rain in the air, the feel of her other self, clawing at her skin. Two different worlds circling each other, getting closer and closer, knotting together in ways she would never have imagined.

The near-change of the day past still hung over her, the dusky memory of her other self's odor caught in her hair and on on the tips of her fingers. It would have been easy to give in, her second half reminded her. Even now, days later, she felt like her body was still fighting it.

She was so tired.

She tried to lose herself in the stories that Bofur told, laying back against Mora's spine, half dozing. Ever since the evening temperatures had begun to pitch sharply downward, rain on the horizon, Asha had taken to spending her time atop her wolf napping.

Kili watched her closely as she mumbled lowly in her half-sleep, her hair illuminated like an old painting by the bright afternoon sun. The way she lay, head lolling to the side, held his attention in the way that the conversations around him did not.

His gaze was so engrossed in the lass who rode near him, trusting that if she fell he would catch her, that he didn't notice the looming dark clouds overhead, a summer storm well on its way.

~~~

Asha woke just as the first droplets of rain fell from the sky. Half a second later, the sky opened and the Company scrambled to don their cloaks, while Asha merely sat up, her eyes blurry from sleep. When the first low rumble of thunder rolled across the sky Asha couldn't help the smile that crossed her face. She had always loved the rain, thunder and lighting and all.

The Company, on the other hand, grew annoyed by the rain quickly. They all looked wet, and if Asha was being honest with herself, miserable.

Her delight of having both the rain and the forest around her had led her to slip away from Mora, an excited sparkle in her eyes. It was neither a cold Spring rain, or the chilled Fall rains, but a warm summer rain that held no bite aside from the occasional breeze, and even that was balmy.

She had disappeared into the trees around them before any could protest, and Gandalf had merely laughed at their worry. "Asha is a child of the wilds, Master Dwarves. She is more than capable of taking care of herself during a slight summer rain such as this."

And now, hours later, Asha was returning to the group, her leather traveling bag weighed down with spoils of her exploration.

Glancing through the group, she saw Bofur staring down at his unlit pipe in discouragement and Bilbo staring straight ahead, blinking through the drops. Wandering to her adoptive brother's side, she quickly removed her cloak and threw it over the tiny Hobbit, starting his greatly.

"Asha, you've returned!" Bilbo exclaimed, attempting to remove the cloak from his shoulder. At Asha's heated glare, he ceased his movements and merely pulled the cloak closer. His voice hadn't carried through the sound of rain, and very few of the Dwarves seemed to realize that she was there.

"I'm only a shadow, dear Bilbo," Asha commented softly, a sly grin upon her face as she reached into her bag and brought forth a bundle of large, sweet peaches she had picked while exploring through the forest. "Bombur, catch!" And with that, she threw one of the peaches, which the overly large Dwarf caught with ease.

Asha's face was like to split as she walked between the two columns of ponies, holding out a peach for each member of the Company. She received a variety of thanks, and she blushed as she felt fingers brush against hers when she held a peach aloft to Kili.

She had only just bitten into her own peach - her third, yet the others had no need of knowing such - when she heard Dori, clearly over the rain, mutter crossly. "It's as if the Gods above decided to move the sea to the skies. How much longer shall this continue?"

Moving to his side without a sound aside from the slick noise of her bare feet squelching through the mud, Asha smiled. "It is not that bad, is it Dori? The rain is necessary for all things to thrive, even a Dwarf."

Frowning at the lass who seemingly was of no mind to take protection from the rain, he worried out loud. "You shall catch your death, lass."

Laughing, she all but skipped away, her arms spread wide as she started to spin down the path, her skirts rising up to billow about her hips, mud clearly streaked up to her thighs. "The rain has never bothered me, Master Dwarf." Pausing in her movement, she suddenly held out her boots, which were coated in mud. "My boots on the other hand. . . ."

Shaking his head in her direction, suppressing a smile that the others couldn't manage to hide, he called forward. "Here, Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?"

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done," Gandalf replied. "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another Wizard."

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked.

"What?" Gandalf queried without turning.

"Other Wizards."

"There are five of us." Gandalf nodded. "The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards. . ." He shook his head. "You know I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?"

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown." Gandalf smiled fondly.

Frowning slightly, Bilbo pulled himself more beneath the hood of Asha's cloak. "Is he a great Wizard or is he . . . more like you? Asha!" He yelped, looking down at the sharp pinch to the thigh he had received. Asha merely shook her head, eyes slightly narrowed.

Gandalf, looking more than slightly offended, replied easily. "I think he's a very great Wizard, in his own way. He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

Asha smiled, a fond look in her eyes as she turned her gaze back towards the forest. "I'm going to walk a while yet, Bilbo." She smiled, slipping the pit of her peach into her brothers pocket. "Watch Mora well; the rain affects her more and more as she ages."

And with that, Asha ran, fading from their sight quickly as she disappeared around the bend and into the forest once more.


	16. Chapter Fifteen - An Unexpected Enemy

The Dwarves stopped at midday beside a wide stream, where it ran broad and shallow over a pebbled, rocky bottom. The rain had stopped, and the sun shone bright and hot in the sky above. Mora, without warning, flung herself into the water, panting happily as she swam.

"It looks right for bathing," Dwalin said, dipping a hand in carefully. "It's shallow enough tha' tha sun's warmed it."

"Oh, thank Mahal." Sighed several of the Dwarves who, as a whole, preferred to be clean. Over half of the Company were out of their clothes in less than a minute, Bilbo included. It had been long enough since they had left Bag End that he had begun to feel undeniably disgusting and wanted nothing more than to wash away the dust of the road.

Gandalf, it seemed, had no interest in bathing, and instead packed the bowl of his pipe.

"Where do you think Asha's gone off too?" Ori asked, looking considerably smaller without several layers of knitwear.

A strange splashing at the other end of the stream caught their attention then, and Thorin was the first to notice the source of the splashes.

Asha was standing, nude, with her back, turned to them, completely unaware of their presence. She was scrubbing sand-soap through her hair vigorously. The smell of honey and almonds reached to Dwarves, even on the other side of the creek as they were. Noticing their Leaders unrest, the others followed Thorin's gaze just in time to see Asha disappear beneath the waters, bubbles rising to the surface as she forced the soap from her long locks.

Asha rose from the water then, unfortunately facing the Dwarves, and they watched as her face faded to pale before blazing a bright poppy red that traveled down her neck to her chest and full breasts. She opened her mouth, whether to scream or to yell, the Dwarves were not sure, but all that came out was a thin, high-pitched whistle.

The Dwarves scrambled away then, all yelling and pointing fingers at one another, trying to divert the blame. Bofur promptly yanked his smallclothes up to his waist, his skin as flushed as Asha's, who, for her part, didn't seem able to move.

Mora took action then, running from behind to forcefully toss Asha into the deeper water, where she screamed and splashed.

"Mora! I'm going to skin you and turn you into a nice fur cloak!" Asha yelled at the wolf, pushing waterlogged hair from her eyes. She turned to the Dwarves then and frowned. "If you're going to bath, then do it. Just keep your small clothes on. And turn around while I get out and get dressed."

The Dwarves quickly obeyed her command, turning their back to the lass, while Gandalf roared his laughter at the situation as Asha disappeared back into the trees.

~~~

Asha was still flushed when she arrived at the abandoned, skeleton remains of the farmhouse. Her friends rode to the dilapidated structure, stopping at Thorin's command, though she could tell that Balin and Dwalin did not feel it was the best place to stop. Even if it was nearly dark. The worry grew when Gandalf mentioned how a family had once lived there.

Asha carefully scouted the area as she listened to Gandalf and Thorin argue about stay at the farm, about Thorin's hatred for elves, even those who had done him no wrong, and about the stubbornness of Dwarves.

Gandalf, surprisingly, ended the conversation by stomping off angrily, leaving the Company.

Bilbo, of course, took note of his actions and immediately began to panic. "Everything alright? Gandalf? Where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who has any sense."

Bilbo seemed mystified. "Who's that."

“Myself, Mr. Baggins! I’ve had enough of Dwarves for one day.” The Wizard shot back, causing Asha to shake her head.

Thorin appeared resigned as he motioned toward Bombur. "Come on, Bombur, we're hungry."

Bilbo seemed shocked that the others weren't worried that their Wizard had left them. "Is he coming back?"

No one replied, and Asha sighed as she stepped farther back into the trees, keeping to the shadows as she watched the Company set up camp.

~~~

Night had fallen and Asha was watching the group through half stilted eyes. Bombur had finished preparing dinner - soup - and the Dwarves were all eating ravenously. Laying back against a tree, she yawned, her other half stirring, coiling, twisting and turning, scratching just beneath the surface, too close to make it safe to venture towards the others. Yawning silently, Asha rubbed the ring on her left hand absentmindedly, her body relaxes as she moved closer and closer to sleep.

Mora already slept to the side of the fire, her breaths deep and, when Asha listened closely, filled with pain. She was growing too old for such journeys, and Asha knew that it was beginning to wear away at her friend.

"They've been a long time." She heard Bilbo mutter.

"Who?"

"Gandalf. Asha."

Bofur snorted. "He's a Wizard. He does as he chooses. As for the lass, she can take care of herself."

Bilbo seemed shocked. "But's she's been gone nearly as long as he has."

"True, but if Gandalf thinks that she can take care of her own then she can. Besides, she's got her bow, hasn't she? Here, do us a favor: take this to the lads."

Asha stood as Bilbo dissipated from sight, a strange scent catching her attention. It smelled of rotted meat and thick body order.

Cursing low in her throat, Asha began to move. Her other half was so close, brought closer to the surface by the stench of Trolls.

She had only just ducked under a large bush of bright, fat berries when a Troll crossed her path. His foot missed her by a few mere inches, but she withheld a snarl for she didn't want it to hear her.

A moment past before she emerged from her hiding spot, and followed the Troll's giant footprints until she stood at the edge of a camp. There were three trolls, she realized and her eyes grew wide with worry. She couldn't attack three trolls without help. One, perhaps, with no small amount of luck, but three was too many.

It was then that Asha noticed Bilbo, already snatched in one the trolls hand, be violently sneezed on. If she had eaten anything but the peaches during the afternoon hours while it still rained, she might have gagged. As it was, she swallowed reflexively as she watched the Troll panic from what he assumed to have fallen out of his nose.

"What is it?" One of the others asked.

"I don't know but I don't like the way it wiggles around!" The one holding the Hobbit answered and Asha watched as he dropped Bilbo on the ground, threatening him with his knife. "What are you then? An oversized squirrel?"

"I'm a burglar… uh, hobbit!" Bilbo stammered and Asha would have shaken her head if she had not seen the seriousness of the situation.

"A burglar hobbit?" Tom asked confused.

"Can we cook him?" Seemed to be the more important question at the moment, being asked by the cook.

"We can try!" The one who couldn't seem to stop sneezing replied making a grab for Bilbo but the hobbit was faster than they knew and it took nearly three minutes for the trolls to finally catch him.

"Gotcha!" grinned the cook, holding the hobbit tight in one hand, "Are there any more of you little fellas hiding where you shouldn't?"

"No!" Bilbo quickly shouted but the trolls were not so easily fooled.

"He's lying! Hold his toes over the fire, make him squeal!" One suggested angrily but before they could do any such thing, Asha saw a familiar brunette head of hair emerge from the bushes, stabbing one of the trolls in the foot.

"Drop him!" Kili yelled.

"You what?"

"I said . . . drop him." He repeated and swung his sword in one hand, grinning enchantingly.

The Troll stared down at the Dwarf for a moment, before grinning, throwing the hobbit so that they both landed on the ground with a heavy thud. At that moment the others entered the camp, arms raised and with a fierce battle cry on the lips.

The Company kept up the frenzy of their attack until the trolls managed to get a hold of Bilbo, despite his best efforts to keep away from the fray.

"Drop your arms, or we'll rip his off."

They all dropped their weapons.

If Asha decided she didn't like watching her adoptive brother being stuffed in a sack, she quickly realized that she liked the sight of her friends being roasted on a spit even less.

She could feel a substantial amount of the heat from the large bonfire the trolls had going from where she was now lying hidden some eight or nine yards away, and she couldn't imagine how hot it felt from right above it.

The flames kept licking at the Dwarves exposed skin, singeing their long johns in places, and Asha was sure she could see the ends of Bofur's and Fili's mustaches and Dwalin's, Dori's, Ori's, Nori's, and Bifur's beards singeing from the fire.

Asha was unsure of what do do, when, finally, she landed upon a plan. Sneaking along the edge of camp, she carefully moved so that she was standing behind the three trolls, all of whom were watching their 'dinner' in glee. Her other half strained to be free.

Then she threw her head back and allowed a long, mournful howl to escape her throat - a howl that echoed through the forest like a pack of wolves, instead of one lonely girl too afraid to reveal her true form to her friends. The noise shocked her for a moment, and she realized just how close her other half was to the surface. Mora answered her call, rushing through the forest, alerted to the danger.

The trolls heard the sudden howl, but they could not place where its origin was since the echo seemed to surround them. It took only a moment before there was a second howl and the Trolls began to whimper in fear.

"What was that?" Kili heard one of the trolls ask.

"It sounds like a wee wolf." Another answered.

Then, there was a strange rustling to the trolls left, and just seconds later to their right.

"Where is it? I can't see a thing!" Bert called out nervously, trying to spy into the bushes.

"Don't worry 'bout that, 'tis just a wee wolf. You could squash it with your little toe! Let's get to business with cooking these Dwarfs!" William replied, turning the ones of their company who were tied on a spit over the fire.

"Oh, don't bother cooking 'em! Let's just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly!" The third Troll suggested.

"They should be sauteed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage." The cook answered and looked hungrily at the Dwarves.

Kili could only gulp, it was frustrating not being able to defend himself against the cursed trolls before him and, not for the first time, he wondered where Asha was. Had she been caught? Was her body already laying among the piles of bones that littered the ground throughout the Trolls campsite? Or had she escaped? Was she hiding? Where was she?

"Never mind the seasoning, we ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away, let's get a move on! I don't fancy been turned to stone." William said and just in that moment, there was a silent rustling near the Dwarves. Kili heard it and looked up questioningly. Obviously, he hadn't been the only one who had heard the noise; his uncle was peeking into the darkness of the woods with a stern expression.

"No, wait! You are making a terrible mistake!" The Hobbit suddenly cried out and drew the attention of Thorin and Kili back to their situation.

"You can't reason with them," Dori called out. "They're half-wits!"

"Half-wits? What does that make us?" Bofur yelled back from his spot on the spit. Obviously, he was still able to make jokes, even when he was being roasted over an open fire.

Bilbo now got up, hopping a few centimeters towards the trolls in his sack. "I meant with the . . . uh, with the . . . the seasoning!" he stuttered, gaining the attention of the trolls now.

"What about the seasoning?" Bert asked, clearly offended.

"Well, have you smelt them? You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!" The hobbit improvised and immediately got angry mumbles from the Dwarves as an answer.

Asha realized what he was doing and smiled from her hiding spot.

"What do you know about cooking Dwarf?" William asked but was cut off by Bert.

"Shut up, and let the...uh, flurgerburbur-hobbit talk." He said angrily.

"Th . . . the-the secret to cooking Dwarf is, um..." Bilbo seemed to have some trouble making something convincing up, causing Asha to howl again, gaining the trolls attention for a moment.

"Yes? Come on."

"It's, uh . . ."

"Tell us the secret!" Bert yelled, impatiently.

"Ye-yes, I'm telling you. The secret is . . . to . . . skin them first!"

Kili couldn't believe what he was hearing from that little man. Angrily, he yelled and swore at the hobbit and he was not the only one. The others joined in, releasing their anger verbally on Bilbo who could only roll his eyes.

Asha wanted nothing more than to curse the Hobbit for his choice of words, but he held the attention of the trolls long enough for her to sneak up to the pile of Dwarves. Silently, she made her way through the leaves towards them but couldn't avoid a little rustling from time to time.

When she was finally at the edge of the shadows, she stopped for a moment to check the situation. Thorin was the only Dwarf who was lying in a way that she could reach him, so she ducked towards him. He didn't realize she was near him until she got up from her position. She saw him twitch a bit before he turned his head and saw her. Mora, still hidden within the trees, continued to howl.

Asha shot a quick glance to the hobbit that was now talking about Bombur being infected. He was obviously trying to buy them time. She wrinkled her nose a bit when he claimed that, in fact, all of them were infested with parasites. Suddenly, she heard a familiar voice call out from beneath the others.

"We don't have parasites! You have parasites!" Kili shouted at Bilbo.

Asha's lip curled up in a silent snarl, annoyance clear in her expression. Couldn't he understand what the hobbit was trying to do?

Thorin looked at her for a moment, then to the hobbit and then he suddenly kicked Kili in the back to shut him up. Asha smiled at the king but stopped as she bent forward and buried her fingers in Thorin's bag, pulling with all her strength. The cloth was strong and it didn't want to give way, so she grumbled lowly before placing her feet against Thorin's torso, shooting him an apologetic glance as she did, hoping to gain some amount of counterbalance.

The Dwarf only looked at her surprised, throwing glances towards the trolls from time to time.

Suddenly, two things happened at once. The first one being that the sack gave way and tore apart, leaving a surprised Thorin and Asha, who had not really believed that this would actually work, and second - The Troll who seemed to be the worst of the lot yelled at Bilbo for taking them for fools and tried to grab him.

Asha reacted out of instinct and launched herself in front of the hobbit with one big leap. A threatening snarl escaped her mouth and she aggressively bit the hand that tried to grab hold onto the Hobbit. Asha's mouth filled with the taste of dirt and dead things and she felt bile rise in her throat as she gagged loudly.

She quickly let go before the Troll could dash her away. The Troll yanked back his hand with a pain filled yelp. Mora rushed from the trees then, and Asha watched in horror as a large hand descended from above. Mora yelped as the hand connected with her roughly, sending her flying to a bolder. The resounding crack that sounded through the air filled Asha with dread.

"MORA!"

"The dawn will take you all!" a voice suddenly called out from a cliff behind and Asha turned her gaze from her wolf, only to find Gandalf standing atop the cliff with a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Who's that?"

"No idea"

"Can we eat him, too?"

Suddenly, Gandalf slammed his staff into the cliff he stood upon, splitting it in two, allowing the rising sun's light to wash through the clearing.

Ashlynn watched the scene unfolding before her with a morbid sort of satisfaction. The Troll's roared, their strangely colored skin growing grey as they began to harden. Within moments the only thing that remained of the Trolls was three statues. She had never seen anything like this but those trolls didn't deserve different, she thought, while all the Dwarves laughed in joy.

A thin whine broke the joyful exclamations of the Dwarves, though, and they turned to find Asha kneeling before Mora, tears washing down her cheeks. Mora was hurt. Mora was very hurt.


	17. Chapter Sixteen - An Unexpected Loss

As Gandalf cut the ropes that bound the Dwarves to the spit, where they still hovered above the fire, Asha moved close to her wolf, eyes wide and tears falling like water from the falls in the mountains.

"Where did you go, if I may ask?" Asha heard Thorin ask.

"To look ahead." The Wizard answered nonchalantly.

"What brought you back?"

"A call for help caused me to look back," Gandalf said, smiling sadly towards Asha, who still sat next to her friend, a haunted expression on her face. "It seems that I was not quick enough for all the Company, though."

The Dwarves didn't run towards Asha. Running would have meant acknowledging something that they weren't ready to face in front of one another. Instead, they walked with a giant's strides, dried leaves and branches and bone snapping under their feet, their breaths drowning out the other sounds of the morning.

Cold snaked under Asha's skirt, tightening her skin into goosebumps.

For a brief moment, time stood still. Not really still. It sort of danced and shimmered in place, the lights flickering and dimming before reappearing before Asha's eyes. If Mora's death had been a real thing, it would have been a butterfly, flapping and fluttering towards the sun.

Mora was dead, or close to it because all she still jerked shakily. But all Asha could see was the small wolf pup she had found in the forest, so many years ago.

She had been so small then, with mangy fur and wide, trusting eyes that had gazed up at her with the kind of love that came from being too old to know better.

Asha was going to throw up.

She was ice.

"We need to move her." A male's voice was piercingly loud in the silence of her mind. "We should move her away from the body."

Voices tore into her head, too loud and too many. She sensed movement all around her, their bodies and her's whirling and spinning, but deep inside her, there was a part that held completely still.

Her vision flashed with jerky memories of humans shifting into their other halves, hundreds of shifts over her years with her mother's people, hundreds of shifts over her years of knowing. The memory of the first time she'd seen her mother shift was vivid in her mind - more real than the screaming red sunrise through the trees around her. She remembered the frigid white light streaming through the windows of their home, and she remembered the shaking lines of her mother's shoulders as she braced her arms against the kitchen table.

She stood beside her, looking up, no words in her mouth.

"Take her out!" Her mother shouted, her face toward the hallway but her eyes half closed. "Ulrik, take Asha away from here!"

Ulrik's fingers around her arm had been as tight as Kili's fingers around her hand were at that moment, pulling her, tugging her, trying to make her stand.

Kili. She held on to that name. If she kept the names close to her, she knew that she would survive the aching in her heart.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

She was shaking, shaking; her skin was peeling away, her bones shifting beneath the muscle.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

Night fled from the trees, chased away from the sun glowing from the sky.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

The brilliant nimbus of the sun half blinded her, making stark silhouettes of the trees, and suddenly she was nine again. She saw the blue pattern of her old covers so clearly that she trembled. Her fingers clutched the fabric, balling and tearing it under her grip.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

"Ma-ma!" Her voice broke on the second syllable. "Mama, I'm going to be sick!"

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

She was tangled on the floor in blankets and noise and puke, shaking and clawing at the floor, trying to hold onto something, when her mother came to the bedroom door, a familiar silhouette. Asha looked at her, her cheek resting against the floor, and she started to call out, but no sound came out.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

Asha remembered her mother dropping to her knees, watching her shift to her other half for the first time.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

She couldn't let the others see her change. She couldn't change.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

She was hurting already.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

She couldn't stop shaking.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

She couldn't shed the cold that had flooded through her body. Her muscles began to cramp and she put her fingers on her face, shoulders hunched. "I can't, Kili. I can't." She couldn't tell if she had said it out loud or not.

Kili. Fili. Oin. Gloin. Balin. Dwalin. Dori. Nori. Ori. Bifur. Bofur. Bombur. Thorin. Gandalf. Mora.

She shook and clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering, trying to focus on those around her, on being human, on breathing. Kili said something; she couldn't understand him. He was too loud. Everything was too loud. She hurt. Everything hurt. Asha whined, very softly.

Something seemed to break inside her again, and everything began to move again. She buried her face into Mora's chest, which had stopped moving, although when she couldn't be sure. A sorrowful howl escaped her throat then, and she cried, her tears staining Mora's fur, while the Dwarves looked on.

The Dwarves knew, at that moment, that they had never seen something in their lives that was quite so sad.

Asha groaned and put her head down on her knees. No. No. No. No. She didn't even know what she was fighting anymore. The pain? The shuddering? The shift?

A movement to her side drew her attention for a short second. Kili. He grabbed her wrists and his mouth moved, his voice ringing out, indecipherable. Sounds meant for someone else's ears. She could only stare.

He pulled again; he was stronger than she had thought. Asha got to her feet; her height somehow surprised her. She shivered so violently that her cloak fell from her shoulders. The chill morning air hitting her bare skin racked her with another shudder and she nearly fell to her knees.

The Dwarf got a better grip on her arms and pulled her away, talking all the time, low, soothing sounds with an edge of iron beneath them.

Asha pulled and fought against his hold, eyes locked on the dead wolf that he was pulling her away from.

"Asha, don't fight me! I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but we have to leave. You have to get away from here, or you'll never calm down."

Eyes fixed on the wolf, Asha shook. "Please." She whispered.

In her head she saw the wolf pup running through the trees, growling playfully, trying to bring her other half to the surface.

Kili smelled of sunshine and familiarity, of sweat and hugs and everything all at once.

Asha went limp, the fight went as she stood next to the Dwarf, hands covering her face, throat aching, her heart thundering in her chest. She groaned and stroked a hand over her throat to try to ease the terrible pain. Her vocal cords felt shredded - just like her heart.

"Asha!" The Dwarf shook her; she stumbled and fell to her knees. Kili fell to his as well and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close, whispering soothing words of comfort in her ear.

Asha sat perfectly still, sinking, warmth closing over her body, scalding her skin, boiling her blood, drowning her shudders.

"Asha." He said. "Gods, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Asha couldn't stop shaking, her fingers gripping his cloak. Her other half wanted out. She wanted Kili to continue holding her, so she could feel safe. She wanted to forget the pain that flooded her with every breath. They sat that way for what seemed an eternity.

"Are you okay?" Kili asked softly.

Asha couldn't answer. She was bleeding to death. She balled her hands into fists and drew them to her chest. Every caress of cool air over her exposed skin sent a new wave of shivers through her body. Kili's face was full of pain.

"I"m going to check on the others. Asha, will you be alright?"

Asha closed her eyes.

She passed a lifetime sitting there like that, unable to move, and then Kili came back, holding her cloak. He knelt down next to her, expression wary.

"I can't get you to stand if you don't help. Please, Asha." Kili stared down at her as if he were waiting for her to move. Then he wrapped the cloak around her shoulders; it was warm as if he'd heated it somehow. Then he took her wrists into her hands and looked at her. "You can come back now. Please, Asha, please. Come back."

She stared at him, unblinking, her legs folded up to the side as if she were broken. Perhaps she was, she thought suddenly. She could hear him, and she agreed, but she could seem to move.

Kili reached down and traced her eyebrows. "You have beautiful eyes."

"We get to keep them." She said.

Kili started at her voice. "What?"

"It's the one thing we keep. Our eyes stay the same." Asha unclenched her fists.

If he found her comment strange, he didn't show it as he replied. "Well, they're beautiful. Beautiful and sad and filled with life." He reached down and took her fingers, his eyes locked on hers, holding her gaze. "Do you think you can stand up now?"

"I want to bury her. And I want Ori to draw a picture of her, so I don't forget her." Asha said, staring at the ground, making no move to stand.

Kili shook his head, a small, sad smile on his face. “You think the dead we loved truly ever leave us? You think that we don't recall them more clearly in times of great trouble? No, you'll remember Mora, with or without a picture to recall her likeness. Because Mora was a part of you just as much as you are a part of this company." Pausing, Kili held out a hand. "So, do you think you can stand now?"

And she did. Looking at his brown eyes and nothing else, Asha stood, and he led her from the edge of the clearing and back into her life.


	18. Chapter Seventeen - An Unexpected Hunt

"Do you think she's alright?" Kili asked, watching as Asha sat next to a large mound of dirt, concealing Mora from sight. The Dwarves had moved forward to help bury the body, but Asha had growled lowly, her eyes narrowed, and they had backed away quickly. The only one she allowed by her side was Kili, and, when he felt brave enough to join - Bilbo.

She had taken her bags from her friend, and slung them into the forest - hard. Hard enough that they had shaken the tree they had hit against as if it were no more than a small sapling. Her bow was thrown across her back, as well as her quiver, although all had noticed the shaking of her hands as she had positioned them, eyes firmly trailing the ground.

"For the last time, Master Dwarf, yes," Gandalf muttered, clearly growing cross. "Asha is a creature of mourning, but once it passes, she will continue on as well as she ever has." Gandalf lowered his voice, eyes shadowed. "Until then, I suggest that you stay with her, as she may not appreciate being alone."

Asha choice to ignore the whispered conversation and instead rose to her feet, following after the others, who claimed to have found a cave. Bilbo was clearly startled by her sudden movement, but he merely watched her with a heavy heart as she walked away.

The troll hoard smelled worse than the trolls had. Asha wandered in and began to look at all that was strewn throughout the cave, and found that she was not impressed. They had killed her friend, for this? Cobwebs and rusted weapons. Dirt and filth and decay.

Asha did find, however, that she was more than a little disturbed by the way the Dwarves zeroed in on the gold. There were three who buried the chest, and they were very careful about it and particular about what they put into it.

Asha felt as if their reaction to the troll hoard was an ill omen of things to come.

And so she stood outside the cave with the majority of the Company while Thorin found Orcrist, and Gandalf handed Bilbo a small sword - nothing more than a hand dagger it seemed, but it was just the right height for the small Hobbit.

She watched the Dwarves.

She was a ghost at the edge of the trees; silent, still, cold. She was winter embodied, frigid wind given physical form. She was a mystery with hard eyes and tears in her voice.

Sighing, she scented the air. There was a bit of tree sap, the musk of a wolf who no longer lived, the sweetness of Bilbo that reminded her faintly of bread. There was another scent, much smoother than all the rest, and Asha knew that it came from Kili. It comforted her unlike his soothing words had.

Asha's head snapped to the side then, her eyes wide as she listened to something large, something with many legs rushing through the forest. Her sudden movement alerted the others and they peered into the trees, eyes wide.

Bilbo looked terrified. "Gandalf -"

Gandalf ignored the Hobbit and swept him to the side. "Stay together! Hurry now. Arm yourselves! Asha, to our side!"

And they did. Kili preparing his bow in one swift motion while he quickly walked to his brother, who had already drawn each of his twin blades.

Bilbo stood before them, shielded by Asha, who seemed to be swathed in shadows, positioned as she was between the Dwarves and the approaching unknown. Her bow was in her hands, string pulled lightly, an arrow already notched.

"Thieves!" A strong male voice suddenly called out from the woods. "Fire! Murder!" Yelling, the man dashed through the bushes. Only on second glance, did the Asha realize that the man was standing on a huge sleigh that was being pulled by rabbits?

"Radagast!" Gandalf called out, relieved before anyone would attack the strange man. "This, my friends, is Radagast, the Brown."

Kili remembered Gandalf talking about the Wizard toward the beginning of the journey, and he put his bow away. Glancing at Asha, he noted that the shadowed appearance of her body had faded, and he realized, with a start, that she had been ready to attack, to protect her friends. Despite her pain from the loss of Mora, she was still willing to fight for them. He caught her eye then, and she smiled, although to the Dwarf it seemed more a grimace than a smile.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Asked Gandalf skeptically, his eyes trained on his friend closely.

"I've been looking for you, Gandalf." Came the hurried reply, his voice weak and wavering. "Something's wrong. Something's . . . terribly . . . wrong."

"Yes?"

They all waited for an answer but Radagast suddenly seemed confused. "Oh!" he mumbled. "Oh . . . I had a thought . . . but now I've lost it." Gandalf only watched his old friend with increasing incomprehension. "It was right there . . . on the tip of my tongue!"

And what happened next, Kili would always remember as something both unexpected and most disgusting. "Oh, wait," Radagast said. "It wasn't a thought at all. It was just a silly little . . . " And with that, he stuck out his tongue and pulled an insect out of his mouth. " . . . stick insect. Huh."

Kili exchanged a look with his brother who seemed just as taken aback as him.

"If that's what comes out of his mouth, I don't want to know what else he has stuck up in there," Fili mumbled and Kili couldn't hold back a grin. They were both rewarded with a stern glare from their uncle who had obviously heard them.

Then, Radagast's gaze fell upon the tiny woman standing calmly in their midst and his eyes grew wide. Even wider than they already were. "Gandalf!" he said urgently, not looking away from Asha. "She is a - !"

The gray Wizard only nodded, quickly cutting off his friend before he could reveal too much. "Yes, yes, I am aware."

Kili watched as the Wizard smiled. "Most fascinating." Radagast murmured and Kili glanced at his brother questioningly. "It seems that, despite their distrust of others, they have yet to push her away."

"Why would we?" Kili asked, frowning. Radagast merely tilted his head to the side, eyes locking with Asha's who backed away towards Kili.

"Most fascinating, indeed . . . I wonder if . . . but they do not know." Gandalf clearing his throat interrupted the Wizard. Kili didn't get an answer from him. Instead, Radagast turned around and motioned Gandalf to follow him and led him a few meters away from the company to discuss something in private.

Asha didn't know what Radagast had found so fascinating. Why would her friendship with a Dwarf make the Wizard speechless? Of course, Radagast was more than an unusual Wizard, so she quickly shrugged it off.

She grumbled a bit and caught an asking look from Kili but he didn't say anything and so she turned around to pay some attention to the rabbits that were still tied to the sleigh.

They shuffled uncomfortably when she got close to them.

"Don't scare them away, Asha." She heard Bofur chuckle to her right. He was inspecting the rabbits as well and she smiled wolfishly at him as an answer but didn't go any closer. She knew that she smelled of her other half, and didn't want to upset them.

Suddenly, she heard a growl coming from further away. It had been faint but it had definitely been there. Then, there was another one.

"Was that a wolf?" She heard Bilbo ask and she felt he was looking at her.

She shook her head slowly, backing away from the trees, eyes wide in alarm. Several of the Dwarves noticed her behavior and moved for their weapons, while others moved to peek into the bushes that surrounded them.

"Wolf? No… That is not a wolf" Bofur answered, as Asha growled low in her throat, her other half too close to allow words. She knew exactly what that was. And it was with absolute certainty, not a shy, timid wolf.

Then, the growl was clear and loud enough for everyone to hear. Turning on her heel she leaped at the massive Warg running down the little hill where they were standing. Without hesitation, she fell onto the Warg, cutting it off before it could get to Thorin and Dwalin, who had obviously been the goal, and burrowing an arrow into its skull before it could react. It was dead within seconds.

Suddenly, there was another growl coming from the other side of the clearing and she could only turn around in time to see another Warg charging towards their leader from behind. But before it could reach him, an arrow buried itself into the Wargs head and it fell down. Dwalin followed after and slashed at it with his ax.

Asha watched as Thorin stared at her for a short moment before looking down at the creature at his feet.

"Warg-scouts." He said. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind."

"O - orc pack?" Bilbo stuttered disbelievingly.

Asha could only stare about herself with wide, angry eyes, even as she stalked close to the youngest of the group, her hair falling into her face wildly, giving her the appearance of a wildling. Ori watched her with a strange sort of fear, but when she smiled, her only attempt at comfort, his eyes grew wider than she would have thought possible. Using her tongue, she probed at her canines and found that they had begun to lengthen, her other half clawing it's way to the surface.

She only listened with half an ear to what Gandalf said to Thorin then, still concentrating on her surroundings to make sure there were no more Wargs in immediate proximity. It was only the Wizard's last words that sunk into her consciousness like a burning iron. Words that triggered both anger and fear in her heart.

"You are being hunted."

The chorus of more howls set them all even more on edge if that was possible.

Dwalin cursed, his voice as hard as rocks. "We have to get out of here."

"We can't!" Ori cried out, and Asha realized he had run from her side. "We have no ponies; they've bolted!"

Radagast shook his head. "I'll draw them off."

Gandalf scoffed. "These are Gundabad Wargs; they will outrun you.”

The smile that stretched across the brown Wizards faces set the Company on edge. “These are Rhosgobel Rabbits; I’d like to see them try.”

Then Radagast took off, to serve as a distraction, and the Company ran.


	19. Chapter Eighteen - An Unexpected Chase

Asha ran just slow enough that she stayed near the Dwarves, occasionally nudging someone's arm, mainly Ori's or Bilbo's, urging them to run faster if they fell a bit behind, or snatch at their packs when they would run into the sights of the Orcs. She could see Dwalin picking up her adoptive brother and flinging him further in front when he started to slow. She knew that it was in an effort to prevent the short-legged Hobbit from being left behind, and Asha silently thanked the Dwarf.

"Come on!" Gandalf yelled as loudly as he dared.

The Company rushed across the rocky plain that spread out before them and, in the distance, they could see Radagast being chased by the Wargs. Asha actually laughed as she watched one of them flip over while trying to catch the Wizard. As the Company ran from the cover of a boulder they noted Wargs not too far from them, and collectively decided to stay hidden by the rocks.

"Stay together!" Gandalf said as if they needed the warning.

Thorin nodded. "Move!"

As the Company ran, Radagast continued to direct his sled around and past rocks, at one point ducking under an overhanging projection of rock. The Orc following close behind him on the other hand . . .

As the chase continued, Thorin stopped the group behind a rock, so that he would not be seen by the Wargs passing close by. Ori, not noticing the sudden halt, continued forward.

"Ori, no! Come back!" Asha hissed, darting forward to jerk the Dwarf back by the neck of his knitted sweater.

Gandalf, relieved by her quick reflexes, patted Asha atop the head. "Come now, quick!"

Thorin seemed to realize something then, and he turned to Gandalf with hard eyes. "Where are you leading us?"

Gandalf did not answer. Asha saw one of the main Warg-scouts chasing Radagst suddenly stop, scenting the air. Motioning with her hands, she directed the Dwarves to take cover beneath an outcropping of rock. The scout and his Warg appeared at the top of the outcropping moments later, scenting the air. Thorin looked to Kili and nodded; readying an arrow, Kili quickly stepped from the cover of the rock and shot the Warg, causing both beast and rider to fall close to the Companies feet.

Asha couldn't track the movement of the Dwarves as they darted forward to kill them both, but she knew that the sounds of battle would carry quite far; the other Wargs and Orcs were bound to hear the roars and screams from behind the rocks.

Asha began to panic as she heard the howls of Warg-scouts.

"Move!" Gandalf cried, no longer trying to be quiet. "Run!"

The Company ran through a grassy plain, breath short and muscles burning. Asha could see Wargs beginning to surround them from all side, and her eyes narrowed in barely concealed horror. She couldn't fight so many, and despite all the Company being excellent fighters, she worried for their well being. She had already buried one friend that day - she did not want to bury another.

They continued to run for a moment longer, but they escape came to an abrupt halt in a clearing as they saw Wargs on all sides.

"They're coming!" Kili yelled, his voice steady.

"Kili!" Thorin yelled back, his voice echoing through the air. "Asha! Shoot them!"

Asha never noticed Gandalf running towards a group of large rocks. She never saw him disappear into one of the many shadows that seemed to lay at its base. Instead, she was busy shooting at the Wargs, and the Warg-riders, killing some. Kili did the same, but even between the two of them, she knew that it would not be enough.

"Where is Gandalf?" Kili cried out suddenly, noticing the Wizards disappearance.

Dwalin scoffed. "He's abandoned us!"

"He wouldn't do that!" Asha yelled eyes narrowed as she turned to glare at Dwalin for saying such a thing. The balded Dwarf had the grace to blush.

Cursing, Asha began to herd the Dwarves closer, nearing the rock were, without a word, Gandalf had disappeared to. "Kili, come on!"

As the leader of the Wargs approached, Ori - brave, sweet Ori, Asha thought - shot a rock at the Orc, to no effect.

Thorin pulled out his sword. "Hold your ground!"

Asha was praying silently, her moves moving in a wordless whisper when Gandalf seemed to spring from a crack in the rocks to their backs.

"This way, you fools!"

The Dwarves seemed to shudder with relief as Thorin commanded them to move forward, his voice raised to be heard over the snarling of the Wargs that still surrounded them.

Cursing under her breath, Asha snagged Kili by the back of his cloak, unwilling to let the Dwarf out of her sight as she moved to slide into the large crack in the rock. They fell down the steep slope into a little cave, landing on each other with a smacking sound and no small amount of muttered curses, especially from the injured Dwarves, making a pile very reminiscent of the one that had fallen through Bilbo's door, so many weeks before.

Asha yelped as she fell down into the hole, Bilbo on one side and Kili on the other as she flipped, head over heels, into the pile below, a resounding crack echoing through the cave as her head struck a sharply pointed rock.

The Dwarves quickly moved to their feet, disentangling themselves from the mass of limbs, grumbling quietly as they listened to see if they were pursued.

Kili, meanwhile, hauled Bilbo out of the pile and set the little man on his feet, before he turned to Asha. He was surprised to see that she was not already on her feet. Instead, her limbs twitched as she struggled, blood pouring from a long cut that curved along her eye socket - running the length of her forehead and around to wrap around her cheek. The blood staining her pale blonde hair ruby and faintly turned his stomach as she tried to move to her feet. A pain filled whimper escaped her lips, drawing the attention of the others as she suddenly shifted to her side.

She appeared no more than a child to the Dwarves at that moment, hurt as she was, yet the curves of her body told otherwise.

Her limbs jerked strangely as she fought to regain her feet.

Kili cursed, and moved forward, drawing his cloak from his shoulders before laying it over Asha, effectively creating a cover to slow the shivers which had begun to rack her body. Without a second thought, Kili took Asha into his arms, lightly tapping his forehead to hers, wary of the fact her bones were not as strong as a Dwarves.

"Well, don't go to sleep now, Asha," Kili said cheerfully, his voice a shade too high as he watched her eyes flutter closed. "You'll miss all the fun."

Blearily, Asha looked up to Kili, vaguely aware that she was being carried. She knew to touch foreheads with someone was a public sign of affection, of your familiar relationship with that person, and when Dwarves were loath to admit they were fond of a member of another race, it meant that Kili saw Asha much like a younger sister and he did not care who knew it. She noticed the Company could only smile sadly and approve of the public declaration of affection. It never crossed her mind that the display might have meant something more.

The Dwarves were brought back to themselves at the call of a horn, and the unceremonious dumping of an Orc corpse down their hidden hole. At the sight of the Orc, Asha tensed in Kili's arms, a low hiss escaping her throat, although it reminded him more of a whine than a show of anger.

"You got to stay awake, Asha," Kili said softly, jostling her softly in his arms, hoping that the movement would jolt her back to reality as her eyes began to drift closed once again.

Thorin cursed then. "Elves." He said, pulling an arrow embedded in the flesh of the lifeless Orc and examined the silver metal tip with designs on it.

"We need to go. Quickly." Gandalf's statement was accompanied by Dwalin's cautious wandering down the little passage they could all see.

"This goes somewhere, tho' I ca' na' see where. Do we follow i'?"

"O' course we do!" Bofur started pushing his fellow Dwarves towards the passage, everyone starting to move, hurriedly, because they did not fancy having another Orc, or an elf for that matter, dropping in on them, especially in such a compact space; they were careful, though, of Asha, as her head began to hang limply from her neck, rolling as Kili walked.

Cursing, Kili stopped for a moment, shifting the girl in his arms so that her head rested against his shoulder, hopefully making it more comfortable for her.

The tunnel led on for nearly an hour before opening suddenly to a ledge overlooking the Last Homely House and the beauty of the Valley of Imaldris.

Cursing, the Dwarves knew that they had little choice in the matter and quickly followed after Gandalf, many throwing worried looks over their shoulder to Asha, who lay limp and pale in Kili's arms.


	20. Chapter Nineteen - An Unexpected Ally

The Company looked all about the Elven platform - some in awe, others in disgust - but none could deny that it was beautifully made. It gave an excellent view out of the valley, over a lush forest, and it provided a close look at several tall, beautiful waterfalls that fell from high above. The air smelled sweet and clean.

Kili knew that Asha would have loved the view if only he could keep her awake long enough to see it.

Kili's eyes wandered to the hollow between Asha's collarbones, an area of skin his eyes were often drawn too, and he studied the pale expansion. The skin was slightly flushed but seemed soft as silk. A small silvery scar curved over the left color bone and down her chest, toward her breasts. There was another scar that circled the side of her neck; he'd never noticed it before.

His attention was diverted when an Elf walked down the stairs and started talking to Gandalf, or Mithrandir, as they call him, in Sindarin.

Kili found that he could not focus. Instead, his attention kept turning to the lass in his arms, surprisingly light for all the toned muscle through out her body. The bloody gash that was still dripping down her face and into her hair, staining it red, was worrisome as well.

He knew that it would only add to her collection of scars.

He couldn't help but notice, though, the soft curves the pressed against his chest or the many freckles that were scattered about her skin. He hadn't meant to, but it had been unavoidable during their walk to the Rivendell.

Gandalf and Elf's conversation ended just as the sound of pounding hooves could be heard in the distance.

Kili centered himself in the protective mass the Dwarves were forming as Bofur pushed Bilbo to do the same. The Dwarves drew their weapons, prepared to fight, while Bilbo stared all around, clearly confused and scared. The Elves moved to surround the Dwarves, forming a slightly menacing wall.

The lead elf, Lord Elrond no doubt, dismounted near Gandalf and proceeded to speak with him in Sindarin, holding up an Orcish sword.

The Company continued to look at the Elves suspiciously, grumbling to their own of Elves who were not to be trusted, when Lord Elrond approached them and spoke in Sindarin to Thorin, who was in the front of their combat ball of Dwarf and weapons.

Kili paid no mind as the Lordly Elf stepped toward his Uncle, but looked up as Gloin moved forward, a frown upon his face. "What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?"

The Dwarves grew agitated at the thought and gripped their weapons uneasily, causing Gandalf sighed, exasperated. "No, Master Gloin, he is offering you food, and a healer for Asha."

The Dwarves quickly discussed the issue among themselves, before Gloin stepped forward, slightly shame-faced. "Ah well, in that case, lead on."

~~~

Kili left the Company once their meager dinner of greens and leafy foods was finished and, quite by accident, he found himself walked toward the healing chambers. While the others cheerfully had a second dinner with their own food and meats, he couldn't think of chatting with them now. He had eaten little during the dinner provided by the Elves, but he found that he didn't feel hungry. He only wanted to be with Asha and see that she would be well again.

As he entered the healing chambers, he saw that only two elves stood watch, both of whom smiled slightly at the Dwarf as he moved to the lass's side. It was dark inside and he could only see Asha's silhouette lying too still on one of the many soft down beds.

He hurried towards the bed and sighed deeply when he saw his friend breathing evenly. Her wounds seemed to have healed rather quickly, he observed happily, and the one wide open gash was now a little more than a silver scar.

Silently, he searched for something to sit upon and after a few moments, he found a chair and dragged it to the side of the bed. He let himself fall into the chair heavily, his muscles weary. Kili allowed his gaze to wander the length of the small lass's body. She had been wounded far worse than any of the Company had realized. A deep slash, just above her left hip. A cut along the inside of her arm. Scratches and scrapes along the entire right side of her body. A deep gash on her back. The wound to her head, which already seemed to have healed.

She was resting peacefully, though, her eyes closed and color slowly returning to her otherwise pale skin. As much color as she normally had, that is.

He leaned forward with a silent sigh.

"Don't scare me like that again, do you hear me?" He said to the sleeping lass. "I couldn't bare the thought of losing you, and I'm sure the other's couldn't as well. Don't . . . Don't make us worry like that again. Don't make me worry like that again."

Asha made a soft noise, and Kili twitched. He looked at her but her eyes were still closed. Tentatively, he reached out to stroke her hair, much as he had wanted to since the night he had brushed it after their one and only argument.

"I don't know what haunts you, but you're safe here Asha. You're alive and you're safe. With me." He said, caressing her hair tenderly. There was still blood matted through the blond strands. The hair wasn't as golden as his brothers, he realized suddenly, but a soft sort of gold that reminded him of wheat growing in the field.

She didn't really react to him if only she relaxed a bit, but Kili noticed and smiled. He stayed with her for the evening. carefully running his hands through her hair before, finally, he fell asleep beside the bed.

~~~

Asha woke slowly, her eyes opening to the dim light of dawn. Looking to her left, where she felt a strange weight at her side, she smiled. He was there. Kili. Fast asleep on a chair beside the bed she was laying on, his hand outstretched to her side, resting lightly against her ribs, which she saw was covered by a thin, light-colored tunic.

Suddenly, the door was pushed open loudly and Asha looked up to see Thorin, closely followed by the others, enter the room.

A bright smile broke out across the Dwarves faces when they saw her awake, and staring across the room with a bright smile.

"By my beard, we thought you might never wake," Dwalin smiled, quickly moving to the bedside, an eyebrow raised when he noticed Kili's hand resting just below her breast. Asha merely shrugged in return.

"How long have I been asleep?" She asked, her voice thick from sleep. "Where are we?"

"Only a day and night," Balin responded. "We are currently being taken care of by the Elves of Rivendell, and we were just coming to fetch the lad as to break our fast. Would you like to join us?"

"I'm starving," Asha admitting. She slid off the bed and leaped to her feet in one easy movement, wincing only slightly as a sharp pain knifed through her back. "Please tell me they have meat here for us?"

The Dwarves sighed heavily.

~~~

Night was falling as Asha was carried to the balcony where food was already spread, her voice mixing with her friends, for she hadn't been allowed to leave the healers until they had given her a thorough examination.

Asha was seated at the end of the table, between Kili and Fili, with the other's huddled all around, the expressions bright as they watched her stare all about herself in amazement. They all sat cross-legged on little cushions on the ground at short-legged tables, though Asha's legs were extended under the table due to the fact she found the position an uncomfortable way to sit.

She was self-conscious due to the clothing that had been given to her. The trousers were thin and didn't reach past her fingertips when she put her hands towards her knees, exposing much of her legs. Her torso was exposed as well, with only a layer of bandages protecting her modesty due to the cut on her back that she hadn't noticed till it was pointed out by the healers. She was hurt in other places as well, but she still wished to be dressed in her traveling clothes, instead of the Elfish garments that left little to the imagination.

When Elven servers came out carrying large decanters of wine, Asha waved one over, her expression souring as she gazed at the alcohol. "Do you have tea?" She asked softly, and at their polite nod, Asha smiled. "Peppermint in you have it. Sweetened if you do not."

The Dwarves, talking loudly and merrily, filled their glasses with wine, clearly not concerned by the lack of food. Kili, ever the merry Dwarf, poured Asha's wine for her, though he gave her more than she would have liked.

She took a small sip and found that it tasted of sweet peaches and strawberries.

The server then came back with her pot of tea. The Dwarves looked at the pot, curious.

"Why di' you 'ave 'em bring ya?" Dwalin lifted the top of the pot and took a sniff. "Tea, lass?"

"Peppermint tea." Asha nodded. "Unlike all of you, I'm not accustomed to drinking mass quantities of alcohol."

"Oh really, Asha? And just how much are you used to drinking? Will you get drunk off one glass of wine?" Kili looked terribly entertained by this new revelation about Asha, though, at the mention of her possibly getting drunk off of one glass, Dwalin, Oin, Bofur, and, surprisingly, Bifur seemed to be considering taking the wine away.

Asha snorted. "No, Kili, I won't become drunk from a single glass." She paused for a moment, looking thoughtful, before adding. "My people do not drink often, and, due to my age, I've never truly drank before. I doubt that you would consider Hobbit made wine truly spirited."

The older Dwarves stopped eyeing her glass, looking at her with even more confused expressions. Bofur looked positively scandalized by the thought that anyone, let alone a friend of his, had never drunk before.

The conversation was cut short as the food came out, a large variety of bread and vegetables, though no meat, which had all the Dwarves mumbling.

The Dwarves ate mostly bread with a little salad, while Asha and Bilbo munched happily upon the greens and fruits. Many of the Dwarves drank quite a bit of wine, and at Kili's assistance, her wine glass was refilled twice. The Dwarves, she noticed with a frown, were largely unaffected by their drink, although Ori seemed just as red in the face as Asha did, something she was grateful for.

Asha smiled as she ate, crunching on a peach as she watched the Dwarves tell tales and sing songs, clearly deciding that they were tired of the harps and breathy flutes.

Bofur, smiling widely, climbed atop the table and began to sing a song that Bilbo had written and taught to them.

"There is an inn, a merry old inn  
beneath an old gray hill,

And there they brew a beer so brown  
That the Man in the Moon himself came down  
one night to drink his fill.

The ostler has a tipsy cat  
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;

And up and down he saws his bow  
Now squeaking high, now purring low,  
now sawing in the middle.

So the cat on the fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,  
a jig that would wake the dead:

He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,  
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:

'It's after three!' he said."

Bofur sang it well, and with a little jig that had them all laughing, Asha more than she might have normally.

Asha grinned, her cheeks hurting from the width of it. The Dwarf moved to jump down from his place on the table, and Asha giggled and moved forward, grabbing his arm only to join him atop the table. She dragged both Fili and Kili with her as well, giggling as she did. The Dwarves noticed that she winced as she moved, but the frown was gone nearly as soon as it appears, and Asha was spinning the three Dwarves in a circle, her bare feet thumping loudly against the wooden table as she did. Despite the fact the table was all but covered with platters and mugs, wine glasses and silverware, she never once disturbed a thing as she danced atop the table.

The Elves couldn't help but chuckle as the Dwarves joined Asha's foot stomping, and, together, they created a rather uplifting, bright melody that left everyone smiling.

Asha nearly fell from the table as the song ended, but the Dwarves easily moved to catch her. Asha laughed as she fell into the arms of the Dwarves, all of whom smiled and lifted her high, praising her name.

Dinner eventually ended, with all of the Dwarves grumbling about the lack of meat while the Elves mumbled about the mess they had made.

Asha diverted the attention of both as she began to talk about the strange woods of her homeland, a misty sort of look in her eyes as she absentmindedly rubbed the amethyst ring circling her pinkie.

Kili realized, for the first time, that he couldn't remember the number of times he had refilled her wine glass. Nudging his Uncle, he smirked. "I think the lass is drunk."

Thorin couldn't help but smile. "Aye."

"What is this wood call, Asha," Oin asked, curious by her description of wood that, when polished, shone like Ivory.

"I know it as Tagua, but I doubt that they call it that here." She finished off her mug of peppermint tea and sat back, speaking without thinking, her fingers automatically wrapping around her wine glass to bring it to her lips as well. "Maybe one of these days, Oin, after we retake Erebor and trade has been started, we can find a merchant from the Northern Forests and convince him to bring saplings of the trees, so that they can be planted and . . ."

She stopped talking when she noticed the Dwarves staring at her with a combination of wonder and surprise.

She understood why they were looking at her that way when Thorin spoke for the first time that night, looking at her with a more vulnerable expression than she had ever seen him wear. "You speak as if you know we will retake Erebor. How can you have so much faith in our Company and our quest that you speak as if we already have? And you talk as if you intend to stay in with us in Erebor after all is said and done."

Asha looked down, cowed by the honest emotion in their usually gruff leader's voice, noticing how the others were listening intently.

She opened and closed her mouth a few times before finding the words she needed to express her feelings. "I . . . I . . ." She took a deep breath, her expression becoming fierce. "I know we will retake Erebor." She said with such conviction and fire that they found themselves believing her. "I don't believe for a second it will be easy, but I know we'll do it." The fire in her voice died when she continued speaking, her attention turning to a loose strand coming undone from her hair, which had been in a loose bun atop her head. She ignored the Company for a moment before looking up at Thorin with a pleading look, leaving him confused this time. "And I . . . I was actually going to ask you about that, Thorin . . . I was hoping, if it's alright with you, that I could stay in Erebor, once we retake it."

Her words made them all stare. The thought warmed all of their hearts, though none of them had ever thought that a tiny lass would claim a wish to live among Dwarves.

"You want to stay in Erebor? Live among Dwarves for the rest of your life? Why? What about your home, your family?"

Thorin was not expecting the lost expression that spread across her face as she turned to look at the moon, a longing expression that he was all too familiar with on her face.

"I've lost all my family but Bilbo. And once he returns to the Shire, I expect that he'll want to lead his own life, settle down, perhaps have a few fauntlings of his own." Bilbo hummed at the thought, but he did not agree. "I decided, quite some time ago, that I couldn't continue living in the Shire. It's not where I belong. My father was a Dwarf, though, making me a half-breed, so I don't really belong anywhere, but I thought that, maybe, since I am a half-breed that I could stay with friends. I wouldn't take up much space, and I could help where help is needed, and -" Abruptly, Asha cut herself off. After a moment, Asha continued her eyes cloudy. "But, if you want me to, I will leave, though I would gladly give up my claim to a portion of the treasure if I could stay."

"There will be no need for that, we would gladly have you stay with us, in Erebor, for the rest of your life, if you so wish," Thorin stated confidently. The Company cheered at that declaration, Asha staring at Thorin with a mixture of gratitude, surprise, and thankfulness.

"And a long life it will be, as long as the Dwarves in fact." Gandalf's interjection took everyone by surprise, even more so when they processed what he said.

"What do you mean she will live as long as a Dwarf?" Kili asked, surprise written on his face.

Asha smiled. "I told you before that I'm nearly fifty, but do I look it?"

Kili paused for a moment, understanding her words. "It's because of your father?"

"As far as I can fetch a guess? Yes." Asha replied, her voice soft.

The Company started at the lass for a moment and knew that they would not abandon her once they reclaimed Erebor, and they would be friends for years to come.

Asha only smiled happily, her brightly colored eyes shining brightly in the moonlight as she looked at her friends around her.

Hours past, and as dawn began to show itself she bid them all good night and headed off to the room the Elves had given her, the Dwarves having spurned a similar offer in favor of staying close together, something Asha did not begrudge them, but she hoped to have a bed to sleep on for the first time in nearly two months would keep her nightmares at bay and she would be able to sleep the night through without feeling heart-stopping terror and sorrow.


	21. Chapter Twenty - An Unexpected Bond

She saw the sword as it ran through his body, even as he tried to shield his lover, his dark hair staining red.

In the next moment, she saw her best friend become a pincushion of arrows, the weapon she so adored betraying her childhood love at the hands of another.

It was her mother, the look in her eyes, the look of her world being destroyed right before her, that sent Asha into motion.

Her body exploded into a flurry of motion.

The fury to much to contain.

And then it felt as if her skin were ripping apart, the bones of her body breaking.

And then Asha was no longer the young woman that she had once been, but a wolf, terrifying and terrible, it's eyes filled with a deadly fury.

~~~

Gandalf shook Asha, trying to free her from her terror, but the moments past and she did not wake. When his shaking didn't work, Kili took her from the Wizard's lap and held her to his chest, and, while stroking her hair and holding her tight to keep her from thrashing, he sang a Khuzdul lullaby, one he knew well from his childhood.

"Dezeb'aban Mahtarraki undu buara id'abad,  
Little diamond buried in the mountain deep,

Baraz'aban tamari ina tazlifin id'khazad,  
Little ruby burning while all the Darrows sleep,

Danakih'aban tanlikhi aya uzbad id'kalmu,  
Little emerald shining in the crown of kings,

Uzbad id'kalmu,  
In the crown of kings,

Khagal'aban jalataglimi aya bahazunsh id'aguh,  
Little sapphire gleaming on the raven's wings,

Lai' - 'ibine mim tanniki Azhar de,  
Look - my little gem comes home to me,

Lai' - 'ibine mim tanniki Azhar de,  
Look - my little gem comes home to me."

Despite the harshness of the language, it was soothing, and the older, worried, Dwarf slowly eased the tiny lass from her night terror and brought her back to the waking world where she clung to him as she tried to regain control of her breathing. Kili continued to sing, and she was grateful for his presence, and his song, which grounded her.

She was Asha.

She had survived the attack on her people.

Her mother had survived.

She was laying in a soft down bed in Rivendell.

Kili was holding her.

The others were either sitting on the edge of the bed or standing near the walls.

She was Asha.

When Asha was calm, she pulled away and looked up to give Kili a watery smile. She moved no further for a moment, until, while a sigh, she stood. The others looked at her closely, hoping for an explanation of what had caused the more severe reaction to her terrors, but she shook her head, her lips sealed by the salt of her tears and iron of her blood where she had, without knowing, bit her lower lip.

There was nothing she could say that would explain her horror, her memories. So she said nothing.

~~~

The moon was low in the sky, but Asha threw her head back to smile at it, feeling as if she were seeing an old friend. The breeze coasted over the balcony, sending the long tunic she had borrowed for the night rippling over her legs delicately. Yawning, she climbed onto the railing of the balcony, her back placed against the wall it joined with. She kept one leg inside, straddling the wide railing, knowing that if she didn't, she would fall.

This was how Kili found her, some hours later, daybreak on the horizon. "What are you doing?" He asked, keeping the concern out of his voice as he walked onto the balcony to greet her.

Asha turned, blinking in surprise, shocked that he had managed to sneak up on her. She was, for once, given the height advantage by his position on the floor while she sat nearly six inches above him.

It was as it had been when she rode atop Mora, Asha thought with a sad smile.

"Thinking." She said, turning to gaze up at the moon once again. "Praying."

Kili stepped closer, hoisting his-self up onto the railing. His perch was less stable, without the brace of the wall, the world spiraling away below, but he didn't glance down. To compensate, he sat as she did, sitting with one leg inside, the other out. He drew a small stone his mother had given him from his pocket, gently rubbing it between his thumb and palm.

Asha leaned closer to look and saw that Kili held a slick black stone, tumbled smooth, which he readily handed over when she held out a curious hand.

"Is it a good luck charm?" She asked, gazing at the dwarvish runes which were unfathomable to her. She could identify them as Khuzdul, but that was the extent of her skill on the matter.

"Something like that." Kili watched her study the object. Her hair was falling into her face and he felt the sudden urge to braid it away so that she would no longer have to flick at it in annoyance. Otherwise, she looked like her usual self, wearing the same slight smile as she held the stone up to the moonlight as if it would reveal more to her. "My mother gave it to be." He elaborated, glancing down. His nervous fingers, relieved of the stone, fidgeted with the laces of his tunic.

Asha looked up at him in confusion, her eyes bright, nearly glowing. "But not for luck?"

Kili's smile was different than usual, smaller, almost sad. He glanced up at the moon, looking for the God Asha might have been praying too. "To remind me that I promised to come back to her." Watching Asha frown at the runes, his smile widened. "She worries." He explained, with more of his usual cheer. "She thinks I'm reckless."

Asha smiled. "Rightly so." She said, returning the stone. Without it to fidget with, her fingers began to trace patterns on her skin. Kili watched her movements through half shadowed eyes.

"Who is it that you pray too?" He asked suddenly, his voice weary.

Asha started, dragged from her thoughts at his words. "My people pray to Luna, the goddess of the moon, and the one who gave birth to my kind, the person you can talk to, no matter the reason, the All-Mother.

"I've never heard of her," Kili said. He liked the idea, though: a mother, all-powerful, strong enough to bear away pain and fear. "Do you pray to her?

"Sometimes," Asha answered truthfully, thoughtfully, watching as a cloud shadowed the moon for a moment. "I don't always believe in the gods, but I usually believe in her."

Kili contemplated that statement. He’d never thought of faith as something that vacillated – there was Mahal, Aulë, and that was that. No wiggle room, no confusion, no questions. There was often a great deal of anger, in Dwarvish faith, but rarely doubt.

“I always liked the idea of her,” Asha admitted. “Kind, compassionate, strong, brave. People need more mothers like that.”

“Fili and I have a mother like that,” Kili said, thoughtless of him to say since Asha obviously hadn’t had that kind of mother herself, but his thoughts were slipping away from him and the memory of his father –

“What about your father?” Asha asked, and then winced, remembering how he and Fili had introduced themselves. “Sorry, I –”

“We have no father,” Kili said. “There never was one.”

At this, Asha raised an eyebrow. “Did you spring from your mother’s brow fully formed?” She smiled.

He liked the idea. So would Dis, he knew, and he resolved to tell her when he saw her next. “Yes,” he decided firmly, and Asha laughed.

“So did I.” she admitted, glancing up at the moon as Kili smiled at her. "I like to think so, at least."

There was no reply to make to that, not really, and so they sat in companionable silence, watching the moon sink in the horizon as the sun finally designed to rise above the opposite range.


	22. Chapter Twenty One - An Unexpected Fighter

The next afternoon, Asha woke slowly, her mind foggy due to a lack of sleep. Yawning widely, she crept from her room and wandered the halls till she found the baths.

The baths were, in a word, beautiful. All smooth stone and gently flowing water. She was alone in the hallways, as the Dwarves were, more than likely, still asleep, and Bilbo would never wander so close to the female baths. The elves smiled when they saw her enter, and quickly flocked to her side, laughing and speaking quickly, their low voices echoing in the otherwise silent room.

The water was warm and soothing to her trembling muscles, but she bathed quickly. The Elves continued to laugh and talk all around her, fluttering about her as if she were a bird, and occasionally she would feel one or another reach out to smooth a hand over her hair.

One left when she slipped from the water - happily warm and clean - and returned moments later with a beautiful set of clothes that seemed to be made for a princess, rather than a herbalist.

The clothes were thrust into her hands, though, and Asha was left to dress.

The clothes were beautiful, so much so that Asha rushed to try them on. The pants slid smoothly over her legs to settle at her waist. It fit snuggly at the top of her hips, but from there it fell to her ankles in swirling, heavy folds - heavy because of the thick embroidery all along the length of them. The bodice had uneven sleeves and was also copiously embroidered. A leather wrap around covered her breasts and had a single sleeve that came up to fit snuggly against her shoulder. The cloth underneath was the same shade of green as the pants had been, and it fit tightly, ending just above her last rib, which gave her several inches of waistline exposed. She twirled before a mirror, feeling like a child for a moment.

The clothes were beautiful, and because of them, Asha made an effort to appear beautiful as well. She pulled her hair back and brushed it out till it shone and fell down her back in soft curls.

Barefoot, she sashayed down the hallway and headed to the balcony, eager to break her fast.

The Dwarves were already at the tables, some humming, others reading or talking amongst themselves. They didn't bother to look up.

"Good morning. There's breakfast left for you if you're hungry." Balin called.

Asha nodded, and flounced over, trying to catch their attention as she picked up a plate and piled it high with fruits and a strange, thick sweet cream. It wasn't till she passed Ori that anyone seemed to notice her clothing.

"Miss Asha! You look charming!" Ori gasped, his face burning red.

"Thank you." Asha blushed and realized that she had to look a fool, flouncing around in a skin exposing Elven Rikua. Still blushing, she ignored the glances she gleaned from the Dwarves and focused on eating her fruit.

"Who feels up to sparring? Their's plenty of room, if we shove this out of the way." Dwalin asked when the plates were cleared and only the Dwarves - and Asha - remained on the balcony. He gave one of the many low tables an experimental nudge with his foot, and it slid easily across the smooth stone floor.

The Dwarves nodded eagerly, and within a few moments, they had shoved the furnishings against the walls and railings, voices loud as they called out to one another.

Some of the Company, namely the elders, settled at the fringes of the cleared space to make bets, their eyes roaming over the contenders carefully. Several paused when they noticed Asha sitting quietly to the side, stretching slowly.

"Who's first?" Ori asked excitedly, swinging his arms around as if he were about to hug himself, before letting them fall back around. He had slipped from several layers of his sweaters and now stood in a thin tunic and heavy, thick pants, bare-footed.

All the Dwarves, Asha noted, seemed to have taken their boots off at some point.

Asha smiled when his gaze fell on her, and she nodded, carefully making her way to the center circle.

"You?" Kili asked, his voice high as he watched her closely. "But you're hurt!"

"Me." Asha shook her head. She quickly lifted the back of her bodice, showing the smooth expansion of her back to her friend. "I'm not hurt. Not anymore. I heal much faster than a normal human would." It was true. Her back was scared, in more places than one. Several of the scars were dark, the color of the palest red roses, while others could only be seen when she moved and the silvery skin caught the light.

"But you're not dressed to spar!" Kili protested.

"Kili, I've fought you all in my traveling dress before! What difference will a loose pair of breeches make?" Asha cried out, exasperated.

Kili shook his head and sighed. "I can't convince you to sit this round out?"

Asha laughed. "I don't think Ori's going to hurt me, so no."

Within seconds, a boot connected with the back of her head, and she turned to find Ori staring at her with red cheeks. "I can hurt you just as well as any of the others could!" He warned, before falling into the first step of an attack. To his - and everyone else - surprise, Asha moved into the wide swing, turning as she did so that Ori appeared to be giving her a hug, rather than lunging at her to hit.

Asha ended the spin with her arm twisted around his neck and a half full of hair in her hands. "If I pull, you'll end up with a broken neck, Ori," Asha informed him, eyes filled with worry at the thought of her friend actually trying to fight someone.

Ori blushed and broke away from her, only to turn and lunge again, this time, his aim focused, and his weight behind his fist. Asha yelped and rolled, her billowing pants allowing for easy movement as she dodged Ori's attack. Ori seemed to anticipate her movement and spun as well, his feet coming out to swipe her's from under her.

Asha laughed, jumping just before his feet would have connected with her ankles, and threw a hand out, knocking Ori across the shoulder. The blow wasn't hard, and Ori realized that Asha had no intentions of truly fighting. She only wanted a feel for how well he could protect himself.

Frowning, Ori grabbed at her hair, desperate to catch Asha by any part of her he could get his hands on, only to pull away with a yelp.

"Sorry!" Asha breathed, eyes wide. She had turned and bitten Ori without thought, catching him at the soft part of his upper arm. Apparently, she had bit a tad harder than she had meant.

Ori jumped at her then, swinging her by an arm, and letting her go, a move that should have sent her flying into one of the tables against the wall. Instead, Asha stumbled slightly and used the force to send her leaping up onto the table, her eyes wide and filled with curiosity as she turned to stare down at her friend.

"No more games?" Asha asked, head tilted to the side.

"No more games." Ori agreed, happy to finally have her taking him seriously.

Ori's sudden speed took her by surprise, and Asha had to begin pushing herself to keep up with his attacks, to dodge in time, to land a hit of her own.

Ori, in turn, had to remember everything he had learned from his brother, Nori. Nori had taught him common methods employed by Dwarves during a hand fight, and even some used by Men, but Asha's style of fighting was unpredictable.

"How long do you think they'll go?" Dwalin asked suddenly, watching the two with wide eyes. Asha had just managed to land a smarting blow to Ori's left shoulder blade, but in return, he had kicked her across the hip, a solid blow that sent her reeling. Asha was panting, a slight flush spreading across her face, but her lips were stretched into a wide grin. "I never realized Ori -"

Whatever more he might have said died in his throat as Ori managed to knock Asha's feet from underneath her, pinning her to the floor. Asha seemed unconcerned at first, and she wriggled calmly, trying to break his hold, but after a moment she realized that Ori's weight was holding her down more than he was by purpose. With a sigh, Asha went still, her hands coming up to concede the match.

The Dwarves all laughed, Nori loudest of all, and Asha rolled her eyes, laughter bubbling up from her chest as well, causing her stomach to jump under Ori's arms. Ori grinned widely, and rolled away, pulling up the little woman as he did.

"How did you do that?" Asha asked, her voice breathy. "I've never even seen you train, but you fight as good as I do."

Ori shrugged, looking guiltily towards his younger brother, while Dori frowned. "It's just something that I've picked up."

Thorin entered the sparring ring then, followed closely by Balin and Gandalf, little Bilbo trailing behind them silently, causing everyone to still.

"We shall remain a fortnight," Thorin said, clearly displeased if his scowl was anything to go by. "There are runes to be read on the map, but they can only be read in the light of the moon by which they were written. That moon falls in two weeks' time."

"Moon runes!" Ori gasped, quickly understanding what Thorin's words meant. A sudden thought seemed to come to him then, and he frowned. "Does that mean we'll have to continue eating leaves for two weeks?"

Everyone began to laugh.


	23. Chapter Twenty Two - An Unexpected Realization

The later afternoon found Asha and the youngest of the Dwarves exploring the Elven city. She had heard the starting of a strange sort of rumbling noise sometime that afternoon, after the impromptu sparring session, and had wanted to find it ever since. She slipped through a grove of trees and into a small clearing. Finally, she saw the source of the sound. It was a beautiful waterfall, all but hidden at the farthest reaches of the city.

A series of gray stones were spread out like steps onto a tall hill. The water foamed and flowed over each stone, plummeting down, and spread out like a fan falling into a wide turquoise pool below. Trees and small pushes with petite white flowers surrounded the pool.

Asha smiled, tugging at Ori and Kili's hands as she moved forward, a hush falling over the group. She noticed that it looked as if the bushes were moving, but between one step and the next, hundreds of butterflies took to the air. They were beautiful, blue and white and green and black. Asha laughed and twirled in a circle through the crowd of butterflies, pulling Ori and Kili along with her.

"This is amazing." Asha giggled, her eyes wide. "Let's swim!"

"Do you think it's safe?" Ori asked, his eyes studying the water carefully.

"It should be safe enough," Asha said, looking t the beautiful waterfall through half-slitted eyes. "When I was very young, my mother and I lived in the land far north from here, Helcaraxe. "There were dozens of waterfalls. It was always so cold, and the water would freeze as it fell down the craggy mountains. The smooth rocks around the falls would become slick with ice, and, as more water poured over them, icicles would begin to form. The spiky ice would slowly swell and lengthen as it crept down the hill, stretching and cracking and creaking and reforming until the icy tips would touch the water below in long, thick, twisted ropes. The waters that would still be moving would seep, dribbling over the icicles slowly, glazing them till they shone. In Helcaraxe, the surrounding hills would be lush with evergreens, and they would always be tipped with snow. I learned to swim in those waters. This should be much safer." Sighing, Asha smiled, her mind still far away in the snowy realm of her childhood.

Ori did not respond.

"Ori?" Turning to see if the Dwarf was still paying attention, Asha was shocked to find her three friends studying her intently.

A slow, lazy smile lit Kili's face. "That sounds beautiful, Asha."

Asha blushed and quickly looked away.

Fili deliberately cleared his throat. "It sounds beautiful but cold. The water here, from what I've heard Lord Elrond say, doesn't freeze."

Asha grinned and quickly slipped from her billowing pants, revealing the same pair of short, short breeches she had been forced to wear the day before. Laughing at her friend's startled expressions, Asha dove into the water before they would react.

The water was crystal clear, and it quickly cooled her body. Within seconds, Fili, Kili, and Ori had all joined her in the water. After swimming and exploring the pond, the group swam to the falls and found a set of rocks to sit on just under the spray. Asha smiled as she let the water pound over her body in icy blasts. Later, she scooted to a rock which still held a shaft of sunlight and folded her legs up out of the water. Pulling her wet hair over her shoulder, she allowed the last light of the sun to warm her.

Just then, Kili ran from the rocks and took a flying leap, all one hundred and eighty pounds of Dwarf landing with a large splash right in the middle of the pool, sending rippling waves over to lap against Asha's rock.

Ori and Fili followed closely after, causing water to spray in every direction, including all over Asha.

"I was drying off!" Asha laughed as she slid back into the water. Swimming to the center of the pool, she watched at the three Dwarves began to paddle around her in circles while Asha splashed at them. Ori dove under the water and stayed under for a long time. Finally, he surfaced and leaped on top of a rock before jumping back down into the water right next to the little lass.

They continued to play until, without anyone noticing, they moved toward the shallows and suddenly Kili grabbed Asha around the middle with both arms. She thrashed, startled, before slipping from his grasp, her body sinking into the cold water almost immediately.

"What are you doing?" Asha demanded as she resurfaced, some five feet away.

Kili smirked. "I thought that maybe you'd like to spar again."

Asha's mouth spread into a challenging smile, her eyes bright as she nodded.

Kili lunged at her then, and she used the force of the movement to send him flying over her shoulder. The action brought the two into the deeper water, where they swam around one another like two animals of prey.

At the water's edge, Fili and Ori watched with a smile. The two in the water had yet to notice, but most of the company had joined them when the noise of sparring had reached their ears.

"The lass is going to hurt herself, at this rate." Thorin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched Asha use the momentum from a rock to propel herself into Kili's side, causing him to lose his breath for a moment.

"She'll take Kili down with her, though," Nori said with a laugh.

Kili had managed to move the two back to the shallows, although the water was still deep to Asha, and he used to advantage to hoist the little lass over his shoulders, a yell escaping his mouth as he poised like a hunter with his kill. Asha bit his ear. Not as hard as she had bit Ori's arm earlier in the day, but hard enough to cause Kili to drop her with a curse.

Asha slipped through the water quickly, finding a small area of the pool that was raised above the rest, allowing her to stand without breathing the cool liquid.

Kili rushed at Asha, locking her in a solid Dwarvish headlock, a prideful cheer leaving his throat. It was cut off by Asha slamming her head back into his nose.

"Their fighting like children over the last cookie!" Ori laughed, his hands clutching his sides from his jollity.

Kili's hand caught Asha across the chest then, knocking the breath from her lungs, and she reacted by grabbing a fistful of his hair into both hands and pulling as hard as she could, driving his face down into her knee.

"Mahal," Thorin whispered, clearly shocked. "She fights like a Dwarrowdam."

"She is half." Ori reminded the group.

Asha yelped loudly as Kili smashed his forehead against hers. Normally a gesture of affection, the action left Asha reeling, her vision black near the edges. In retaliation, Asha lifted her leg and kicked Kili firmly against the stomach.

The two hadn't noticed, but their fight had brought them close to the waterfall, the stream falling all around them as they moved to stand atop the rocks. They heard a series of pops and several rocks fell down into the water to their left, drawing their attention away from their spar. Asha quickly moved out from beneath the falls, but another series of pops followed her and, suddenly, something was crashing into the base of her skull.

Stars burst before her line of vision and her eyelids fluttered, then closed as her body slumped into the cool water.

~~~

"Asha! Asha! Open your eyes!"

Someone was shaking her. Hard. All she wanted to do was fall back into her black, peaceful sleep, but the voice was desperate, insistent.

"Asha, listen to me! Open your eyes! Please!"

Asha tried to crack open her eyes, but it hurt. The last rays of the sun were making the painful pounding in her head worse. Her mind started to clear as she forced herself to study her surroundings, and she recognized the waterfall and Kili, who was kneeling to her side. His wet hair was slicked back, and he had an expression of concern on his face.

"Asha, how do you feel? Are you okay?"

She intended to answer him sarcastically, but, instead, she choked and began coughing up water. She inhaled to breathe and heard a crackly wetness in her lungs just before she began to cough again.

"Turn on your side, lass. It will help get the water out." Oin said softly, rubbing her back and Kili pulled her toward him so that she was resting on her side. Asha coughed more water from her lungs, and Kili began to run his fingers through her hair, murmuring softly in Khuzdul.

Asha winced as Kili's fingertips brushed against the base of her skull, shaking her from the calm that had settled over her.

"You've got a bump the size of my fist here."

Asha reached up to feel the lump on the back of her skull. She gingerly touched it and recalled the source of her water-filled lungs and the pounding in her head.

"I think you've had more than enough excitement for one day, huh, Asha?" Fili joked poorly, a worried smile on his face.

"Maybe you should try to have more in your life, brother. You seem to have become too serious in your old age." Kili said, digging an elbow into his brother's ribs as he knelt down to look at Asha, causing Fili to shove him with a smile.

Asha laughed wetly as Kili jostled her shoulder and she sat up to push him away, a pained smile on her face.

Kili realized then, with a start, that while he thought her to be pretty dressed in her traveling gear, squinting into the sun and hair in a messy bun, Asha was beautiful when she was pressed up against him, shaking with laughter. He knew that it was her way of reassuring the Company that she was fine. Her eyes were bright with mirth and she grinned as she leaned into his shoulder.

The sudden realization nearly bowled him over, but he only wrapped one arm around her shoulders and Asha hid her face in the crook of his neck, her body shaking with silent laughter, her arms curled around his waist, just above the dimples above his buttocks.

A strange sort of warmth seemed to move through his chest then, and Kili knew, more than he had ever known anything, that Asha was his One.


	24. Chapter Twenty Three - An Unexpected Request

Asha stared up through the moonlit trees and willed her headache to subside. She knew that she would have to move eventually, but she really didn't want to. Kili hummed softly, and the comforting sound actually helped ease the pain in her head. Sighing deeply, she rolled to her knees delicately, slowly, while breathing deeply, hoping that by moving cautiously the nausea would dissipate and the world would stop spinning. Kili tensed at her movements, watching her carefully.

"Thank you for saving me," Asha whispered, stroking back his hair carefully before kissing the top of his head. "What would I do without you?"

Kili choked out a startled laugh and shook his head. "Probably drown."

Asha smiled. "Probably."

Walking slowly, she moved to her dry clothes and picked up the small bundle. Waving away the concerned Dwarves that attempted to follow her, Asha climbed the ridge and slowly made her way to her room, aware the entire time of the shadow following her. Sighing, she turned just before she entered her room, one hand resting on the door frame. "Kili, I know you're following me. I have to change into dry clothes, so if you would refrain from following me into my room, I would appreciate it."

Kili crossed his arms over his chest and stepped from the shadows, water still dripping from his hair.

"I'm serious."

Kili only cocked an eyebrow.

Resting a hand on her forehead, Asha leaned on the door to steady her wobbly legs. "I need to change and you are not going to come in while I do so."

Kili huffed and actually shook his head, staring her down without saying a word. Asha stared back and pointed down the hall, where she knew the Dwarves rooms to be. Kili did not move.

Asha sighed and winced after turning her head too quickly. "Fine, I know somewhere that you won't follow me, though."

Shouldering Kili out of her way, Asha stormed towards the women's bath, and, at his startled expression, slammed the door shut in his face. Wincing, Asha carefully stripped her clothes away and slid down into the hot water. Muttering the entire time about the stubbornness of Dwarves, Asha gently wet and soaped her hair before leaning back to rinse out the bubbles.

She felt better for having cleaned herself, and the warm, dry - if only overly frilly - nightgown the elves had provided by way of leaving it on a bench with a cheerful note explaining they knew her traveling clothes would need to be washed before she donned them again.

When she finally emerged from the bath, she fully expected Kili to be gone, but, instead, she found him leaning against the far wall, eyes half closed, a bruise blooming across his right temple.

Asha paused midstep, her eyes fixated on the Dwarf before her. "Kili, are you going to follow me all night?"

Kili shrugged, and a slight blush spreading across his cheeks. "Maybe. I want to make sure that you're alright and not putting on a show for the Company."

Asha frowned. "I'm fine. Really. Go off and be with the others."

Kili just stood there stubbornly, and if he had been a cat, Asha could imagine his tail twitching forcefully.

"I'm serious." She said, pointing her finger down the hall. "Go eat, or talk with your brother or something. I'm just going to find something to drink and then go to sleep."

Kili still didn't move and he made a noise that oddly reminded her of a whining wolf. Asha laughed and rubbed his shoulder.

"You know, despite appearances, I'm strong. I can handle a little bump on the head."

Kili harrumphed and followed Asha to her room, shouldering his way through the door before she could protest. Yawning widely, he sat on her bed and watched as she carefully poured herself a mug of water. Sighing, Asha sat as well and leaned against his shoulder while sipping at the cool liquid. It made her stomach turn, but she didn't allow herself to react.

As the moon rose, Asha carefully organized her traveling bag, relieved to find her clothes, as well as several other outfits, courtesy of the Elves, sitting on a large plush chair next to the open window.

When she moved to evict Kili from the room so that she could sleep, Kili refused. He stretched out on the edge of the bed, and, after a heated debate with herself, Asha crawled under the covers as well. She heard the Dwarf sigh, and he shifted so that he laid with his chest against her back, his chin resting on her head.

When she woke the next morning, her head was cushioned by Kili's chest, and she had thrown an arm around his waist, cuddling him close. Kili, thankfully, was still asleep; dead to the world and everything one in it.

Asha pulled away awkwardly, and as she sat up to stretch, she cautiously felt the lump at the base of her skull and was happy to find it greatly reduced. She felt better as well.

Famished, she shook Kili's shoulder trying to force him to wake. "Kili, I'm hungry. I'm going to the balcony. Are you coming or not?"

Kili merely grunted and rolled to his side, his face burrowing down into her pillow. Shaking her head, Asha quietly changed from her nightgown and slipped a simple dress over her shoulders. The dress was of Elven make, with a clear gossamer look to it.

Famished, Asha ate a large plate of fruit at the main table. After breakfast, Asha waved way the others and wandered back to her room, only to find Kili sound asleep on her bed. Shaking her head, she moved to a sunny corner of the room and began to brush her hair. When she was done, she closed her eyes and turned her face toward the early morning sun, letting it warm her as a slight breeze lifted her hair. Rivendell was a haven. Even with the bump at the base of her skull and the Dwarves innate hatred of Elves, Asha was able to appreciate the beauty of her surroundings.

Kili woke at some point near midday and sat by Asha's side as she munched happily on a ripe plum. Afterward, Asha rooted through her travel bag and found a small book filled with stories her mother had told her as a child. Not bothering to look over her shoulder, Asha asked Kili if he'd like to listen to stories from her childhood.

When she didn't hear any form of protest, Asha carried her book to the same sunny corner of the room and sat down with her back resting just below a large window. Kili padded to her side and surprised her by falling toward the floor; at the last moment he flipped to his back and laid his head on her lap before she could get a word in. Then he sighed deeply and closed his eyes.

Asha laughed. "I take that as a yes?"

Keeping his eyes closed, he mumbled, "Yes, please."

Still laughing softly, Asha flipped through the book to pick a story to read. "I think I'll read this one. It's one of my favorites, and it was written by my Uncle Ulrik."

Asha began reading, holding the book with one hand while absentmindedly stroking Kili's hair with the other.

"There once lived an old queen whose husband had been dead for many years, and she had a beautiful daughter. When the princess grew up she was promised in marriage to a prince who lived far away. When the time came for her to be married, and she had to depart for the distant kingdom, the old queen packed up for her many costly vessels and utensils of silver and gold, and trinkets also of gold and silver, and cups and jewels, in short, everything that belonged to a royal dowry, for she loved her child with all her heart.

She likewise assigned to her a chambermaid, who was to ride with her and deliver her into the hands of the bridegroom. Each received a horse for the journey. The princess's horse was called Falada and could speak. When the hour of departure had come, the old mother went into her bedroom, took a small knife and cut her fingers with it until they bled. Then she held out a small white cloth and let three drops of blood fall into it. She gave them to her daughter, saying, "Take good care of these. They will be of service to you on your way."

Thus they sorrowfully took leave of one another. The princess put the cloth into her bosom, mounted her horse, and set forth for her bridegroom. After they had ridden for a while she felt a burning thirst, and said to her chambermaid, "Dismount, and take my cup which you have brought with you for me, and get me some water from the brook, for I would like a drink."

"If you are thirsty," said the chambermaid, "get off your horse yourself, and lie down near the water and drink. I won't be your servant."

So in her great thirst the princess dismounted, bent down over the water in the brook and drank; and she was not allowed to drink out of the golden cup. Then she said, "Oh, Lord," and the three drops of blood answered, "If your mother knew this, her heart would break in two."

But the king's daughter was humble. She said nothing and mounted her horse again. They rode some miles further. The day was warm, the sun beat down, and she again grew thirsty. When they came to a stream of water, she again called to her chambermaid, "Dismount, and give me some water in my golden cup," for she had long ago forgotten the girl's evil words.

But the chambermaid said still more haughtily, "If you want a drink, get it yourself. I won't be your servant."

Then in her great thirst the king's daughter dismounted, bent over the flowing water, wept, and said, "Oh, Lord," and the drops of blood again replied, "If your mother knew this, her heart would break in two."

As she was thus drinking, leaning over the stream, the cloth with the three drops of blood fell from her bosom and floated away with the water, without her taking notice of it, so great were her concerns. However, the chambermaid what happened, and she rejoiced to think that she now had power over the bride, for by losing the drops of blood, the princess had become weak and powerless.

When she wanted to mount her horse again, the one that was called Falada, the chambermaid said, "I belong on Falada. You belong on my nag," and the princess had to accept it.

Then with many harsh words, the chambermaid ordered the princess to take off her own royal clothing and put on the chambermaid's shabby clothes. And in the end, the princess had to swear under the open heaven that she would not say one word of this to anyone at the royal court. If she had not taken this oath, she would have been killed on the spot. Falada saw everything and remembered it well.

The chambermaid now climbed onto Falada, and the true bride onto the bad horse, and thus they traveled onwards until finally, they arrived at the royal palace. There was great rejoicing over their arrival, and the prince ran ahead to meet them, then lifted the chambermaid from her horse, thinking she was his bride.

She was led upstairs, while the real princess was left standing below. Then the old king looked out of the window and saw her waiting in the courtyard, and noticed how fine and delicate and beautiful she was, so at once he went to the royal apartment, and asked the bride about the girl she had with her who was standing down below in the courtyard, and who she was.

"I picked her up on my way for a companion. Give the girl some work to do, so she won't stand idly by."

However, the old king had no work for her and knew of nothing else to say but, "I have a little boy who tends the geese. She can help him." The boy was called Kürdchen (Little Conrad), and the true bride had to help him tend geese.

Soon afterward the false bride said to the young king, "Dearest husband, I beg you to do me a favor."

He answered, "I will do so gladly."

"Then send for the knacker, and have the head of the horse which I rode here cut off, for it angered me on the way." In truth, she was afraid that the horse might tell how she had behaved toward the king's daughter.

Thus it happened that faithful Falada had to die. The real princess heard about this, and she secretly promised to pay the knacker a piece of gold if he would perform a small service for her. In the town, there was a large dark gateway, through which she had to pass with the geese each morning and evening. Would he be so good as to nail Falada's head beneath the gateway, so that she might see him again and again?

The knacker's helper promised to do that, and cut off the head, and nailed it securely beneath the dark gateway.

Early in the morning, when she and Conrad drove out their flock beneath this gateway, she said in passing, "Alas, Falada, hanging there!"

Then the head answered:

"Alas, young queen, passing by,  
If this your mother knew,  
Her heart would break in two."

Then they went still further out of the town, driving their geese into the country. And when they came to the meadow, she sat down and unbound her hair which was of pure gold. Conrad saw it, was delighted how it glistened, and wanted to pluck out a few hairs. Then she said:

"Blow, wind, blow,  
Take Conrad's hat,  
And make him chase it,  
Until I have braided my hair,  
And tied it up again."

Then such a strong wind came up that it blew Conrad's hat across the fields, and he had to run after it. When he came back, she was already finished combing and putting up her hair, so he could not get even one strand. So Conrad became angry, and would not speak to her, and thus they tended the geese until evening, and then they went home.

The next morning when they were driving the geese out through the dark gateway, the maiden said, "Alas, Falada, hanging there!"

Falada answered:

"Alas, young queen, passing by,  
If this your mother knew,  
Her heart would break in two."

She sat down again in the field and began combing out her hair. When Conrad ran up and tried to take hold of some, she quickly said:

"Blow, wind, blow,  
Take Conrad's hat,  
And make him chase it,  
Until I have braided my hair,  
And tied it up again."

Then the wind blew, taking the hat off his head and far away. Conrad had to run after it, and when he came back, she had already put up her hair, and he could not get a single strand. Then they tended the geese until evening.

That evening, after they had returned home, Conrad went to the old king and said, "I won't tend geese with that girl any longer."

"Why not?" asked the old king.

"Oh, because she angers me all day long."

Then the old king ordered him to tell what it was that she did to him. Conrad said, "In the morning when we pass beneath the dark gateway with the flock, there is a horse's head on the wall, and she says to it, 'Alas, Falada, hanging there!' And the head replies:

"Alas, young queen, passing by,  
If this your mother knew,  
Her heart would break in two."

Then Conrad went on to tell what happened at the goose pasture, and how he had to chase his hat.

The old king ordered him to drive his flock out again the next day. As soon as morning came, he himself sat down behind the dark gateway and heard how the girl spoke with Falada's head. Then he followed her out into the country and hid in a thicket in the meadow. There he soon saw with his own eyes the goose-girl and the goose-boy bringing their flock, and how after a while she sat down and took down her hair, which glistened brightly. Soon she said:

"Blow, wind, blow,  
Take Conrad's hat,  
And make him chase it,  
Until I have braided my hair,  
And tied it up again."

Then came a blast of wind and carried off Conrad's hat, so that he had to run far away, while the maiden quietly went on combing and braiding her hair, all of which the king observed. Then, quite unseen, he went away, and when the goose-girl came home in the evening, he called her aside and asked why she did all these things.

"I am not allowed to tell you, nor can I reveal my sorrows to any human being, for I have sworn under the open heaven not to do so, and if I had not so sworn, I would have been killed."

He urged her and left her no peace, but he could get nothing from her. Finally, he said, "If you will not tell me anything, then tell your sorrows to the iron-stove there," and he went away.

So she crept into the iron-stove and began to cry sorrowfully, pouring out her whole heart. She said, "Here I sit, abandoned by the whole world, although I am the daughter of a king. A false chambermaid forced me to take off my royal clothes, and she has taken my place with my bridegroom. Now I have to do common work as a goose-girl. If my mother this, her heart would break in two."

The old king was standing outside listening by the stovepipe, and he heard what she said. Then he came back inside and asked her to come out of the stove. Then they dressed her in royal clothes, and it was marvelous how beautiful she was.

The old king summoned his son and revealed to him that he had a false bride who was only a chambermaid, but that the true one was standing there, the one who had been a goose-girl. The young king rejoiced with all his heart when he saw her beauty and virtue. A great feast was made ready to which all the people and all good friends were invited.

At the head of the table sat the bridegroom with the king's daughter on one side of him and the chambermaid on the other. However, the chambermaid was deceived, for she did not recognize the princess in her dazzling attire. After they had eaten and drunk and were in a good mood, the old king asked the chambermaid as a riddle, what punishment a person deserved who had deceived her master in such and such a manner, then told the whole story, asking finally, "What sentence does such a person deserve?"

The false bride said, "She deserves no better fate than to be stripped stark naked, and put in a barrel that is studded inside with sharp nails. Two white horses should be hitched to it, and they should drag her along through one street after another until she is dead."

"You are the one," said the old king, "and you have pronounced your own sentence. Thus shall it be done to you."

After the sentence had been carried out, the young king married his true bride, and both of them ruled over their kingdom in peace and happiness."

His voice was soft. "That was . . . excellent. I like your Uncle, I think."

"He was a good man before he died. He died a warrior." Asha admitted, her voice soft. "I was a child when it happened, but I still remember it. Uncle Ulrik was protecting my mother and me from villagers who feared my kind. When they realized what we were, they attacked. If it wasn't for Uncle Ulrik, my mother and I never would have reached my grandfathers."

Asha closed her eyes and turned her face toward the sun, but Kili held his eyes wide open, staring up at the lass above him. A slight breeze was blowing and it lifted her hair to cause it to swirl slowly. It caused the leaves of the tree just outside her window to dance and twist in the sun, weaving shadows and sunlight across her face.

Slowly, Kili reached up one hand and touched her cheek. Her pulse quickened, and her face felt hot where he touched it, but Asha merely leaned into the palm of his hand, and they two stayed like that - Kili with his hand resting against Asha's cheek, and Asha with her fingers twined in his hair, her other hand resting on his chest - for an undetermined amount of time.

And then Kili sat up slightly, leaning on one hand, which brought his face very close to hers. His fingers moved down to her chin and, with the lightest touch, he tilted her face so that her eyes met his intense brown ones.

"Asha?"

"Yes?" Asha murmured softly, eyes trailing down to trace the curve of his lips.

"I would like permission . . . to kiss you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stories:   
> The Goose Girl - Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm


	25. Chapter Twenty Four - An Unexpected Response

Reaching out, Kili took both Asha's hands in his and looked down at her with an intense expression. "I want to kiss you, Asha. I have for months now, I just didn't realize it." Reaching out, he almost touched her cheek but he stopped and withdrew his hand. "Say yes."

Asha flushed brilliantly while he squeezed her hands and she reached up to stroke his cheek. "Kili, I - " She froze in place as he pulled her hand slowly down to his lips and kissed her palm. Her hand tingled. His brown eyes searched her face desperately, wanting, needing something from her.

She wanted to say something to reassure him. She wanted to offer him comfort. She couldn't find the words, though. His appeal stirred her. She felt a deep bond with him, a strong connection. One that had formed the very night they had met. One that had grown from that moment on. She wanted to help him, she wanted to be his friend, she wanted . . . maybe something more. She tried to understand her reactions to him. What Asha felt for him seemed too complicated to define, but as she thought over the months of travel, the months of wilderness, it became obvious to her that the strongest emotion she felt, the one that stirred her heart, was . . . love.

Asha jerked back, shaking slightly, causing Kili to startle.

Asha felt as if the world was dropping out from beneath her. She'd built a dam around her heart after her family died. She hadn't really allowed herself to love anyone because she had always been afraid they'd be taken from her again. She'd been afraid that they would learn of her nature and despise her for it. She'd been afraid. She purposefully avoided close ties to anyone but her adoptive brother. She liked people and had many friendly relationships, but she could risk loving. It was dangerous, for herself, and for those close to her.

But Kili? Kili had allowed her to let her guard down, and gently and methodically, he had torn apart her well-constructed dam without either ever realizing it. Waves of tender feelings were lapping over the top and slipping through the cracks. The feeling flooded through and spilled into her, and Asha found that she couldn't breathe. Her heart pounded hard and thudded audibly in her chest. She was sure that Kili could hear it.

Kili's expression changed as he watched her face. His look of longing was replaced by one of concern for her.

The honest gleam in his eyes only caused Asha to feel more panicked. Swallowing reflectively, Asha began to babble. "You don't know me. You've never known me. You don't know what you're asking for. I'm dangerous. It's not -"

Kili sighed and moved closer while curling one hand around her waist. His other hand moved to cup her cheek and his thumb traced the arch of her cheekbone with his thumb.

The touch was sweet, hesitant, and careful, the way one would approach a frightened animal. His face was full of wonder and awareness. Asha's words ground to a halt and she quivered. He paused just a moment, then smiled tenderly before dipping his head and brushing his lips lightly against hers.

He kissed her softly, tentatively, just a mere whisper of a kiss. His other hand slid down to her waist too. Asha timidly touched his arms with her fingertips. He was warm, and his skin was smooth. He gently pulled her closer and pressed her lightly against his chest. Asha gripped his arms.

Kili sighed with pleasure and deepened the kiss. Asha all but melted into him. His lips never leaving hers, Kili took both her arms and wrapped them, one by one, around his neck. Then he trailed one of his hands down her bare arm to her waist while the other slid into her hair. Before she could understand what he was planning, he picked her up with one arm and held her against his chest.

Asha didn't know how long they kissed. It felt like a mere second, and it also felt like an eternity. Her legs had wrapped themselves around Kili's waist and he continued to hold her against his easily with one arm. Asha buried her fingers in his hair and she felt a rumbled in his chest.

After what felt like a lifetime, Kili lowered her feet back to the floor, although he kept one hand around her waist. He cupped her cheek and ran a thumb slowly across her bottom lip, soothing a sting where he had unconsciously bitten the soft flesh. Slowly, the hand drifted, moving to her hair, and his fingers began to slowly twist the loose strands.

Asha blinked languidly, trying to clear her vision.

Kili laughed quietly. "Men eleneku menu o bepap opetu ezirak. Menu denapdul. Menu gamut khed. Men lananubukhs menu. Men Lananubukhs. Men Valaki."

"What does that mean?" Asha asked softly, leaning her forehead against his shoulder blade.

Kili started nuzzling her neck, then moved up to her ear. His lips tickled her as he whispered, and she could feel his smile. "I desire you more than an endless vein of mithril."

Goosebumps broke out across her arms and she trembled.

"You are honorable." He trailed his fingers up her arm, swirling small patterns as he did. "You are a wonderful person."

Asha felt her heart stuttered in her chest. Standing on her tiptoes, she slipped her arms around his neck.

"I love you." Kili continued, trailing kisses from her ear across her cheek in an achingly slow motion, grazing along a path of his choosing. "My Love. My One."

Smiling broadly, Kili crushed Asha against his chest once more and kissed her. Now, the kiss was bold and playful. Asha ran her hands over his shoulders, up to his neck, and pressed him close to her.

When he pulled away, Kili's face brightened with an enthusiastic smile. He scooped her into his arms and spun around the room, laughing. When Asha was thoroughly dizzy, he sobered and touched his forehead to hers. Shyly, Asha reached out to touch his face, exploring the angels of his cheeks and lips with her fingertips. He leaned into his touch lightly. Asha smiled softly and ran her hands up through his hair, brushing it away from his forehead, loving the silky feeling of it.

Asha felt overwhelmed. She felt as fragile as a newborn, and she worried that the stronger she allowed her feelings for Kili to grow, the worse it would be if he left. In a few brief moments, it felt as if every rule she had composed for herself had been rewritten. For a fleeting second, Asha considered telling him the truth of what she was.

'What would become of us?' Asha wondered. There was no way to know, and Asha realized what a breakable and delicate thing a heart was.

Kili was oblivious to Asha's negative thoughts, and she tried to push them into the back of her mind, tried to focus on enjoying the feeling of Kili pressed against her front. At that moment, Kili sat her down, briefly kissing her again and pressed a second, softer kiss along her hairline and neck. Then, he gathered her into a warm embrace and just held her close. Stroking her hair while caressing her neck, he whispered soft words in his native language.

More than anything, though, there was one phrase that seemed to repeat itself again and again.

Men lananubukhs menu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:   
> I desire you more than an endless vein of mithril. - Men eleneku menu o bepap opetu ezirak.  
> You are honorable. - Menu denapdul.  
> You are a wonderful person. - Menu gamut khed.  
> I love you. - Men lananubukhs menu.  
> My love. - Men lananubukhs.  
> My One. - Men Valaki


	26. Chapter Twenty Five - An Unexpected Torment

That night Asha dreamed of large Wargs chasing the Company, their breath hot on their necks, the feel of their teeth sharp on their skin.

Near dawn, the Wargs turned into other disturbing dreams.

Asha was alone and lost, running in an inky kind of darkness. She couldn't find the Company. She couldn't find Kili. Somethin evil was chasing her. She had to get away. Pale, grasping fingers reached out to pull her clothes and hair. Nails scraped against her skin and hard jerks tried to pull her from the path. She knew that if they did, they would ensnare and destroy her.

Asha turned a corner, and suddenly she was standing in a bright sort of light. A large pale Orc stood above three Dwarves and as she moved closer she realized, with a start, that the Dwarves were those of the line of Durin. Thorin, Kili, Fili, all bloodied, all glassy eyed.

All but Kili, who stared up at Asha weakly, mouth moving in words of warning.

Asha felt her body shudder and she launched herself at the Orc, wanting to hurt him, wanting to kill him. Her body seemed to burn and sparks of electricity seemed to crackle from every pore.

"No, Asha! Run!"

Looking down, Asha gasped. It was Kili. His body was torn and bloody, and he couldn't seem to move his legs, but his eyes never left her face.

"Asha, run. Get away from here. Forget about me."

The Orc began laughing loudly, and, despite Asha's efforts to stop him, plunged a rusted blade into Kili's heart. Asha screamed. Her heart beat in a sick rhythm with his. With each thud, his strength diminished.

Pushing herself forward, Asha slowly stroked his hair and cried. "Kili, I didn't want this. How could this happen?"

Kili voice seemed to whisper all around her. "You lost faith in me, Asha."

Asha shook her head in denial. Tears streaked down her cheeks. "No, I didn't. I just needed time."

Kili couldn't look her in the eyes. "Azgal, you left me."

Asha carefully wrapped her arms around him. "No, Kili, I swear. I'll never leave you."

“But you did. You walked away. Was it too much to ask you to wait for me? To believe in me?”

She sobbed forlornly. “But, I didn’t know. I didn’t know.”

“It’s too late now, Men Valaki. This time, I’m leaving you.” He closed his eyes and died.

Asha shook his limp body. “No. No! Kili, come back. Please come back!”

Tears rolled down her face, and Asha felt a terrible, cutting pain. Watching Kili's lifeblood drip down the table and pool on the cold, hard ground was, in an essence, too much. Slumping forward, the pale Orc forgot, Asha fell to her hands and knees, choking on her emotions, and when she opened her eyes again, she saw not just Kili but also her mother, her brother, her grandfather, and all the Company. They were all lying on the ground dead and Asha was alone, surrounded by death.

A harsh wind whipped her golden hair, and storm clouds rushed in, pushed along by the brisk wind. The clouds blanketed the trees and darkened the sky. Lightning struck in several places.

Rain began to beat the ground. Muddy rainwater pooled beneath her. She was cold and shaking, but the lightning didn't frighten her, though it hit close enough that she could smell the burned wood.

A black anguish seeped through her body. Thick and terrible, it seemed to spread through her core and down her limbs. She felt heavy, full of despair, alone. She held onto Kili and rocked his body back and forth, unconsciously trying to comfort herself. But she found no relief.

Then, she wasn't alone anymore. She realized that it was her rocking Kili, but someone else rocking her and holding her tightly. She became alert enough to know that she had been dreaming but the pain of the dream still engulfed her.

Her face was wet with real tears and the storm had been real. Wind surged through the trees outside pushing a hard rain to beat against the window. A lightning bolt struck a tree close to the glass and briefly lit up her room. In the flash, she made out dark hair, tanned skin, and a pair of brown eyes.

"Kili?"

She felt his thumbs wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Shhh, Asha. I'm here. I'm not leaving you, Men Valaki."

With a rush a relief and a hiccupping sob, Asha reached up to wrap her arms around Kili's neck. He slid his body down so that he all but wrapped around her, her head resting on his chest. He stroked her hair and continued to soothe her with words from his native language until she felt the dream fade. The moments passed and though Asha knew she was recovered enough to pull away, she made a conscious choice to stay where she was. She liked the feeling of his arms around her.

As the dream fully faded, Asha realized how alone she truly had been all the years she had spent in the Shire. Since her mother's death, no one had held her like Kili was in that moment. Of course, she had always hugged Belladonna, and Bilbo retrospectively, but no one had managed to break through her defenses - no had Asha let anyone pull the same depth of emotion from her in a very long time.

That was the moment she knew that Kili might love her.

She felt her heart open to him. She already loved and trusted her friend. That part was easy. But, she recognized that Kili, as a man, needed that love even more. So, she held him close and didn't break apart from him until her mind had grown foggy with sleep once again, and her lashes had begun to flutter.

She whispered in his ear, "Thank you for being here. I'm glad you've become a part of my life. Stay with me? Please?"

Asha kissed his cheek and lay down again, spreading the covers of her bed out as Kili lay down next to her. Asha yawned widely, and snuggled against his side and fell into a dreamless, peaceful sleep despite the storm raging outside.


	27. Chapter Twenty Six - An Unexpected Departure

Some days later, Asha awoke, stretched, and crawled her way from the bed. Bright light filtered into the room and she carefully made her way to the window. Rainwater and turned the wet city into a steamy hothouse. Branches and leaves had been torn off in the storm littered the ground and pathways.

The man waterfalls that surrounded the city were rushing faster than usual, pushing sodden pieces of flotsam into muddy pools and flooded waterways.

"I suppose we won't be swimming today." Asha greeted Kili, who had awoken as she had moved to the window.

"It doesn't matter anyway. I know that we'll be leaving tonight to resume our journey," he replied.

"But what about the map?"

"They'll be checking the map tonight, it seems, from what I heard my Uncle and Lord Elrond saying yesterday afternoon. We've nearly been here two weeks and the full moon will be high tonight, with little chance of clouds. I assume that we'll be leaving soon after."

"But, what about -"

"No buts."

He approached her and tugged lightly on a strand of hair. Then he smiled and kissed her forehead.

"We should enjoy the city while we can, but, first, let's pack. I know that Uncle will want us to move quickly when we go to leave."

It took only a few moments to pack everything into their bags, and the day was spent lounging about, either with the others or by themselves. As evening fell, Asha found herself once again sitting at the water's edge of the very waterfall she had swum at only days before. On the way from that special place, she swept past the flowering bushes to stir the butterflies into the air once more. There were not as many as the day previous. They clung to the sodden bushes and flapped their wings slowly in the sun, drying them out. A few took to the sky one last time, and Kili waited patiently while she watched. She sighed as she began the trek back to the Elven city where the others waited. Even though she knew the Dwarves hated the Elves, she knew that Rivendell was special.

Kili led the way, and Asha traipsed along behind, trying to avoid his muddy boot prints and walk on the drier ground. To pass the time, she told Kili of her hunting trips with her mother before her passing and the stories she used to tell her as a child.

There were some things she did not share with Kili, especially the method in which they used to hunt, or that the stories were not fables as she made them out to be, but ones that concerned real people and real situations. Instead, she calmly babbled away about the more mundane aspects of her life.

It was peaceful to talk with Kili about her past, and the time quickly shifted so that the moon was high in the sky and Asha was all but exhausted from exploring the city.

~~~

Long before the break of day, Kili opened his eyes to find Asha, her face pale and small in the moonlight, curled into his side, her face pressed into his ribs as she sighed in her sleep. Her hands were wound tightly into his undershirt, and he could feel her knees pressed against his hip.

A slight cough to his side alerted Kili to his Uncle, who was staring down at him through narrowed eyes.

Glancing across the room, Kili saw Dori, Nori, and Ori sharing a bed, neighboring Bifur and Bofur. Bomber, due to his girth, was allowed his own. Dwalin and Balin had pulled Bilbo down with them, and the Hobbit was spread across the Dwarves legs, mouth agape, eyes shifting under his lids. Oin and Gloin shared a mattress, along with Thorin, who lay on the outskirts of the two, his right arm and leg hanging off the bed, dangling towards the floor.

Asha had followed the Dwarves to their room the night before, and they all knew that she had spent the past several nights with the Young Prince. The lass had dropped onto the two Prince's pallet with a yawn, her face turned towards Ori, who had lain towards her left. It had become all too common for the four youngest to sleep together on the road, bedrolls lined up side-to-side, although Asha was more commonly found on the outside of the line with Ori at her side. They'd fallen into the pattern without thinking after the first fortnight or so, and Kili knew that Asha found comfort in the routine.

"You'll need to wake her soon," Thorin said, ignoring the fact that the lass was pressed so closely to Kili's side. "We leave in one hour."

Nodding, Kili carefully shoved at Asha's shoulder, causing her to frown. Her lashes fluttered once, twice, and then her eyes opened, squinting all about her in confusion.

Then she closed them again to yawn. There was a furious red spot on her forehead from Kili's ribs, and she rubbed at it absentmindedly. "Wha' ya' want, Ki?" Asha mumbled sleepily, her voice thick and filled with honey.

"We'll be leaving soon. Best you get up and pack your things." Kili informed her softly, turning to nudge his brother. When he turned back to re-awaken the girl at his side, he was shocked to find that she no longer lay there - in fact, she was nowhere to be found within the room - but the sound of splashes could be heard from behind the closed door of the bath.

Asha, for her part, was quickly scrubbing the sleep from her eyes and splashing cool water on her face, all while trying to pull a comb through the tangle of hair atop her head. Once the knots were successfully coaxed from her hair, she braided it to the side and slipped the strands into a loose, messy bun that rested at the base of her skull.

The Elves, it seemed, had suspected their departure, and Asha found a neatly folded pile of clothes sitting on a small stool, along with a finely made pair of boots and a note that read:

'Lady Asha,

I imagine that you will face several trials once you leave the safety of Rivendell, so I warn you to keep your guard up and be mindful of your surroundings. I caution you to stay near your companions. If for some reason you become separated, I fear that there will be a great danger for you.

May you all be endowed with luck,  
Lord Elrond of Rivendell.'

Smiling fondly at that warm words of the Elven Lord, Asha set the note aside and carefully shook out the clothes sitting atop of the stool.

There was a pair of breeches made from a material soft and supple, yet it felt strong as leather. Their color was a soft gray, and it matched the color of the wool overshirt well. A deep black shirt with sleeves that reached her knuckles went on before the undershirt and Asha knew that in the mountains the extra layer of cloth could be the difference between misery and warmth. A cloak wrapped around her shoulders easily and tied at the sides to make another layer of protective cloth between her skin and whatever elements they might face. Lastly, her boots went on, and she found that they were lightweight and comfortable, the same dark brown-black as her new cloak.

"Asha, where are your bow and arrows?" Kili called out suddenly, remembering that he had not seen the weapon for some time. Asha slipped through the doorway and reached under the bed, only to reappear a moment later with her travel pack, which seemed much heavier than it had been when they had arrived at Rivendell.

Tossing the pack to the Dwarf, Asha slipped her arm bracers on and then bent down to readjust the left boot so that the laces hugged her calf more comfortably. Kili, meanwhile, lifted the flap of her pack and, inside, he found several new changes of clothes, all clearly intended for travel, and several ripe peaches. There were also several pockets of her bag filled with wrapped Lembas bread.

Her bow and quiver lay inside the largest of the pockets, their wood protected by her Cobalt cloak.

Snorting, Kili shook his head. "I never would have noticed. But how do you plan on carrying this? It's much heavier than it was before, and we won't have the ponies to help up carry our supplies anymore."

Asha shrugged and easily slipped the straps across her shoulders so that the pack rested comfortably against her hip. Pulling her weapon from the interior, she slipped the bow across her shoulders, as well as the quiver. "I'm stronger than I look, Kili."

The first light of that day found them outside of Rivendell, heading towards the High Pass.

And so ended the stay of Thorin Oakenshield's Company in Rivendell.


	28. Chapter Twenty Seven - An Unexpected Tempest

The steep slopes, rocky paths, and sheer drops of the High Pass served to cause a variety of problems for the Company in the following weeks, as they traveled.

The steep slopes proved difficult for the heavy Dwarves, and it seemed that no matter where they lay their foot, the ground beneath them would shift, nearly sending them into the ravine below.

It was only due to Nori, and Asha's, quick reflexes that kept the Dwarves safe upon their path. Nori's hand would automatically dart out to grab whatever part of a falling Dwarf he could, though, at times, he found himself nearly going over as well. Asha would sprint forward then, grabbing the heavy Dwarves by cloaks or packs, her face scrunched in concentration as she would drag them back over the edge. She had taken to traveling in silence, her eyes shifting through the mountains uncomfortably, only relaxing at night, as she sat near the others, talking softly. She was greatly disturbed by something in the mountains, yet she would not tell them what, when asked.

After all, she reasoned with herself, how could she explain to the Company that the smell of Goblins always sent her on edge, reminding her of terrible times for her and her people. The fact that Gandalf had yet to appear set her on edge as well, making her worry for the old Wizards safety.

The rocky path put a strain upon her adoptive brother's feet, despite their natural thickness, and his pace slowed greatly. Oin wrapped his feet in bandages to add to the toughness of the Hobbit's feet, but the scraps of cloth were soon torn to shreds, prompting the others to carry Bilbo much of the day. Kili, at one point, had offered to carry Asha as well, something Asha had vehemently refused. Her light steps easily carried her over the rockiest areas of the path, the extra weight of her pack nothing to her other half, who she drew strength from often.

The sheer drops of the High Pass were also points of concern for the Company, given that none wanted to fall to their deaths. The path was, at times, incredibly narrow, making it more difficult to stay a safe distance from the edge and, if they tripped, they had nowhere to go, especially if they didn't want to knock anyone else over.

They traveled for days on end, camping in various caves they were lucky enough to stumble upon or, on more than one occasion, sleeping on the trail when none was available.

The Company traveled in this fashion for nearly three weeks until, one night, there came a terrible storm.

Rain poured from the sky, making the already treacherous path that much worse - turning the rocks and stone beneath their feet slick, and making the path all but impossible to see.

Everyone kept their cloaks on and their hoods up. Their heads were bowed in an attempt to keep the wind and rain from their faces, although they found it hard to see the person only feet in front of their eyes. They were silent, trudging along in misery, their feet squishing in their boots, their clothes soaked.

Asha kept a large handful of Bilbo's cloak in her hands at all times, her worry for the Hobbit rising due to the fact, for all the durability of his feet, he often lost traction and fell. And, so, they kept plodding on, the thunder and lightening deafening. Every soul within the Company prayed for a cave to appear, or an overpass which would allow some amount of shelter, for none wanted to sleep on the trail with the weather as it was.

When they heard a resounding crack, the Company pulled back in towards the wall of the cliff, fearing a rock slide, until Balin called out, his voice rising above the din of the storm. "This is no thunderstorm! It is a thunder battle! Look!" The old dwarf pointed towards a great stone-being picking up a chunk of the mountainside.

"Bless my beard! The legends were true! Giants, stone giants!" Bofur stood at the edge of the ledge, gawking at the sight, Bilbo close to his side.

"Step back, you'll fall!" At Thorin's call, Asha moved to yank Bilbo and Bofur close to the mountainside, her body pressing against theirs as the chunk of the mountain the giant had grabbed was thrown their way. Bofur quickly ducked his head over Bilbo's and wrapped an arm around Asha protectively.

Asha shivered against her friends, trying to protect them, and herself, from the falling rocks that were slowly destroying their path. She could feel Bilbo trembling from the cold and fear as his wide eyes watched what happened over her shoulder and under Bofur's head. Asha herself was scared, though she would not admit it if asked. She didn't have time to think anything else as the rock beneath them started to move.

The ground shuddered and split beneath them, the Company being drawn apart as they realized they were on the knees of another stone giant. Asha could hear Fili and Kili yelling at each other, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Her attention, as it were, was focused solely on not falling off the moving rock.

It was then that Asha noticed her half of the Company pulling away from Thorin and the others. Her eyes widened as she saw her friends clinging for their lives to the moving stone while the others moved further and further away. She was slammed into the rocks, nearly losing her footing as the two giants began to battle above them, oblivious or uncaring of those affected by the movements.

She watched Thorin, Balin, Gloin, Oin, Bifur, and Fili stared at them in growing horror from their nearly stationary knee before jumping to a section of the mountain that seemed, for the moment, to be nothing more than stone.

Their giant, evidently defeated, began to fall then, and Asha watched in shock as the mountainside began to rapidly approach them. It wasn't until Bofur called out for them to jump that Asha realized that they might survive their ordeal yet. The small woman all but dragged the others with her as she jumped, their hands wound tightly around hers, causing her a minor discomfort.

No sooner had her feet touched the ground did she find herself scrambling to remove herself from the pile, ears keen on the cries of Bilbo. He was, she saw, hanging from the cliff. Before she could act, Thorin pulled the small Hobbit to safety.

Kili kept his hand wound tightly around hers, not entirely sure his cold fingers would unfurl as Fili moved past with a clap to his brother's shoulder, helping the Dwarves who were still sprawled out, gasping, on the rock.

"Are you alright?" Kili asked softly, his gaze filled with worry and fear. They were both breathless and shaking, much like the rest of the group, from cold and wet and terror.

Asha nodded slowly, her golden white hair falling into her face. A low whine escaped her throat and she turned to rub her cheek against his chest, willing herself to believe that he was, indeed, alive and well. Asha slipped her hand from his as Thorin hurried past, leading the way forward. Where he thought to be going, she had no idea, but there was really no choice for anyone of them except to follow.

Dwalin had just put a hand on his brother's arm when he noticed the cave. "Cave! There's a cave righ' here!"

Thorin seemed weary, but he nodded quickly. "We will take shelter within. Everyone, move!"

Asha followed her Dwarves closely, shouldering each one through the opening, her eyes wide and filled with rainwater.

Inside, the families within the Company stood together in huddles, their foreheads pressed together. Thorin passed the Broadbeams, Ri brothers, Oin and Gloin, and Balin and Dwalin to get to his nephews, enormously glad that they were safe, that the happenings of just a moment's past had not been the end of the Company, of his family.

Asha stood with Bilbo, observing the families reaffirming themselves of one another presence, of the fact that they were all alive. It was a touching scene, reminding them both of how Dwarves valued their families above all else.

The familial moments only served to remind Asha that she did not have a family to look after or love. Her heart clenched at the reminder that she would never see her family again, that such things were forever lost to her. Bilbo was the last of what she could consider family, and he seemed to understand Asha's thoughts as he wrapped an arm around her.

Eventually, the dwarves awoke from their reverie and set about setting up camp

“Search to the back,” Thorin ordered Bofur and Bifur as they began to move about. "Caves in the mountains are rarely unoccupied."

It took only a moment to confirm that, however, they had lucked upon such a cave. Asha found it odd, since it was spacious and roomy, floored in sand that made for a better bed than bare stone. The room smelled strongly - as if Goblins had been there not long before, but she ignored the strangeness and watched as the nightly grouping of familiar clusters began. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur. Oin, Gloin. Dwalin and Balin. Thorin, as usual, slept alone. Dori, Nori. Ori, Fili, and Kili.

It was going to a cold night, Asha reflected unhappily as she quickly pulled her dark cloak from her shoulders, shaking out the rain, much to the displeasure of the Company. The tunic she wore was overly large on her, reaching her knees easily while the sleeves fell several inches past her fingertips. But it had been a gift from Ori, and it was warm, so she wore it with pride.

Yawning, Asha watched as Bilbo moved to lay near Balin and Dwalin, while she wandered to Kili, Fili, and Ori. She was exhausted, so much so that she chose not to worry over the frown Thorin threw her way. Instead, she clambered between the two youngest Dwarves, pressing her nose against Kili's shoulder, feeling Ori's back line up with her own. A small smile spread across her lips as she buried her face into Kili's back, soaking in his warmth as her muscles relaxed, her overly tired body dragging her into the blissful darkness of sleep.


	29. Chapter Twenty Eight - An Unexpected Capture

Asha awoke slowly, her fingers itching for the strings of her lute, a dream song nearly forgotten on her lips. She couldn't remember the words but the tune stayed with her as her eyelids fluttered.

Yawning softly, she realized that she was nestled on top of Kili's chest. His arms were wrapped around her, and her legs were entwined with his. She was surprised that she had been able to breathe at all since her nose had been buried in his thick wool tunic. It had grown colder during their sleep, but Asha's cloak covered them both and his body, which always seemed to be warmer than average, kept her warm.

Kili was still asleep, so Asha took the rare opportunity to study him. It was rare that she awoke before he did and even rarer that he didn't scramble away from her the moment he awoke if only to keep his Uncle from noticing. His powerful frame was relaxed and his face was softened by sleep. His lips were full, smooth, and seemed to be perfectly kissable. For the first time, Asha noticed now long his sooty lashes were. His glossy dark hair fell softly over his brow and was mussed in a way that made him look regal instead of unkept.

She traced a black eyebrow, following its arch with her fingertip, and lightly brushed the silky dark hair away from his face. Hoping not to disturb him, Asha sighed, shifted slowly, and tried to move away, but his arms tensed, restraining her.

He mumbled sleepily, "Don't even think about moving." And then he pulled her back to snuggle her close again. Asha rested her cheek against his chest, felt his heartbeat, and contented herself with listening to its rhythm.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Bofur watching them closely, a small smile on his lips.

Asha began to drift once again, and for a moment she thought she had fallen asleep, for there was a strange sort of groaning beneath her, like the sounds of an old house settling into its foundation. Asha wanted nothing more than to ignore the sounds in favor of sleep, but, quite suddenly, she could hear Thorin shouting. Asha bolted to her feet, pulling Kili up as well in one easy movement, eyes wide, yet filled with sleep even as she studied a crooked line that spread across the floor of the cave. The sand fell through the crack, and only a moment later did Asha realize what she was looking at.

But then it was too late and the floor split open and they all dropped. Asha only had enough time to scream once, shortly, briefly, before she hit the side of the tunnel they were falling down, and the air knocked from her lungs in a sudden, painful burst.

It seemed like only seconds later when her body landed painfully on a hard, wooden floor.

"Where is Fili?"

"Oin!"

"Get up!"

"Hurry!"

"Lookout! Watch it!"

"Master Bilbo?"

"Asha?"

Asha tried to obey all the scattered, panicked orders at once, but it was difficult to focus when she lay beneath a pile of Dwarves, all of whom seemed to be trying to do the same. She managed to catch sighed of rock and stone and firelight before the screams began and Goblins descended on them in a squealing, snarling mass. Misshapen and clawed hands separated them by force, even as the Dwarves yelled and shouted and grabbed for one another. They huddled around the smallest of the group, Ori, Bilbo and herself, and screamed insults at any Goblin who moved to close.

The Goblins greatly outnumbered the Company, though, and soon they were disarmed, overpowered and pushed forward. Asha's gaze darted through the filthy, gray-green crowd of goblins fearfully, searching for a familiar face. There were Fili and Thorin, and a few feet away from them, Ori and Kili. Dwalin and Bombur and Bofur were fighting violently to move towards Bifur, who, in turn, was wading his way through the Goblins as if they were no more than ants beneath his boots. After a panicked moment, Asha realized that she had located each and every Dwarf within the Company, but there was one that she was not able to find, and it caused her heart to thud painfully in her chest.

Where was Bilbo?

~~~

Asha couldn't tell how long they were forced forward, how long they walked, but when they finally exited the dark tunnels, her legs felt weak and her breath was coming in short, panting gasps from her own internal fight to keep her other half locked away.

The area they had been hearded too was massive, a huge echoing cavern lined with wooden walkways and filled with flickering torches.

And on a platform, near the middle of what appeared to be a Goblin City, sat a huge, malformed beast - The Great Goblin King himself. His skin was leathery and as potmarked as the cheek of a pox survivor. A goiter swung under his chin, nearly to his chest cavity, twice as large as his smaller subjects.

Several Goblins broke away from the group then, their crackling laugh echoing eerily through the cavern.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?" The Goblin King bellowed, his voice cracking with nearly every word. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?" His voice grated against the Companies nerves, making them wince.

“Dwarves, your Malevolence,” reported one of the smaller goblins.

Asha cast a worried glance towards Kili, who pressed a finger against his lips as a way to signal her to be quiet. The Goblins, stupid as they were, had yet to notice that she was anything other than a male Dwarf, traveling in the company of other male Dwarves.

“Dwarves?!”

“We found ‘em on the front porch!”

“Well, don’t just stand there! Search them! Every crack, every crevice!” The Goblin King roared, his voice nearly as high as birdsong, but nowhere near as pretty.

Asha shrank into the others when the Goblins moved near, and several of the Dwarves began to fight back as they noticed Asha's trouble. The Goblins, after a moment, gave up the task of searching her and moved on to the others, who pulled her close and shielded her from view.

"What are you doing in these parts?" The Goblin King demanded as the findings of the search were thrown at his feet. "Speak!"

His command was met with sullen silence.

“Very well,” the king said, straightening. “If they will not talk, we’ll make them squawk! Bring out the mangler! Bring out the bone-breaker!” There were deafening cries of approval from the hordes of goblins on all sides as the Goblin King pulled himself to his feet. He wheeled to roll his rheumy eyes over the Company again. “Start with the youngest!”

Asha felt the words as if they were a physical blow. Asha felt numb, and she turned to stare blankly at the others while Goblins shoved and moved to latch onto her from all sides. Kili's eyes were wide and filled with horror as he moved to fight against the surrounding Goblins, Fili and Ori not far behind his movements.

“Wait!” To Asha's relief, it was Thorin stepping forward, startling many of the Goblins enough that they parted around him.

Asha felt a hand fumble for hers; not a Goblin hand, but a warm one without claws. Opening her eyes, which she hadn't realized she had shut, she found Kili reaching out to her, even though his eyes were trained forward on his Uncle. Asha gripped his fingers tightly, her hands shaking.

“Well, well, well!” The Goblin King said happily in a sing-song voice. “Look who it is! Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror! King Under the Mountain.” He swept a low, mocking bow, and then drew back with a hand to his chest. “Oh! But I'm forgetting you don't have a mountain. And you're not a king, which makes you . . . nobody, really.”

He stared down at the Dwarves for a moment, looking for all the world like a cat who had cornered a family of mice. "I know someone who will pay a pretty price for your head." He informed Thorin, his voice growing low. "Just a head, mind you, nothing attached. Perhaps you know of whom I speak. An old enemy of yours, it would seem. A pale Orc astride a white warg?"

The Company startled, and even Asha knew the implications of the Goblin's words.

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed," Thorin said shortly, his voice as hard as a rock. "He was slain in battle long ago."

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?” The Goblin King laughed low in his throat before leaning towards a strange little beast suspended from a wire. “Send word to the Pale Orc! Tell him I have found his prize.”

Asha watched with dread as the little creature slipped away into the darkness, but her worry over the Orcs was short lived as she heard the Goblin King begin to laugh. "And bring forward the little one! I do think they will scream beautifully!"

There was an instant uproar from the Dwarves, but Asha could not hear them past the rushing of blood in her own ears. Kili shifted so that the hand that held hers moved to grip her wrist, an angry snarl contorting his face. Only a moment passed before a hissing Goblin hit him forcefully across the stomach, effective causing him to loosen his grip on her wrist and loose what little content was in his stomach.

Asha began to panic then, and she fought with a strange sort of animal ferocity that sent many Goblins reeling. Her panic was swallowed by the hoard of Goblins, though, and she was quickly brought to the feet of the Goblin King, who laughed at the hapless struggle of the female before him.

Ori cried out then, and darted forward, surprising the Goblins enough that he made it to her side before they moved forward to stop him. Ice seemed to shoot through her veins as Ori battled the Goblins away from her side, his expression fierce and his eyes filled with fire. She knew how this story ended, and she couldn't allow Ori to be subjugated to those horrors.

"Ori, stop, please! Go back to the others! STOP!" Asha screamed, her voice breaking like glass as she shoved the smallest Dwarf back to Dori and Nori, who both held a strange sort of alarm in their eyes.

The Goblin King roared a laugh. "You're a brave one, aren't you?" He commented, waving his hand before his face as if to fan the tears of mirth from his eyes. "No matter, it has been some time since my Kingdom has had the pleasure of Changling flesh."

The Dwarves began to scream at his words, but Asha noted that many seemed perplexed by his words. This observation did not escape the Goblin King.

"Has the little one not told you of her heritage? A Changling! What a surprise, as we thought their kind to have been wiped out many moons ago!" The Goblin King proclaimed. "A lion perhaps, or, perhaps, a bear. She's fierce enough for either! No matter, you'll soon lose that fight."

He waved one hand through the air then, and a large, dark Goblin moved forward, his arm grotesquely long. But then Asha realized that it was not all his arm. A thick, spiked whip curled from the stump that should have ended in bones and flesh, a terrible mockery of the hand that should have been there.

Asha's heart seemed to stutter for a moment before she began to thrash like an animal caught in a trap, screaming obscenities in her native tongue, the words as harsh as gravel and as threating as thunder. She fought with her nails, which had grown to claws; her teeth, which had lengthened to fangs; her limbs, despite the Goblins struggling to hold her prone against the wooden floor.

The Goblin King put on a show of surprise, his eyes wide and his mouth curled into a frown. "Do you not care for the idea?" He asked, his voice almost soft. "Would you rather the little one to go first? Perhaps he will not fight so."

Asha's movements ceased, despite the raging storm brewing in her mind. Ori. He met Ori. Sweet Ori, who had been nothing but kind to her. He would kill the Dwarf without reason, without meaning. For, she knew, Ori would not survive such brutality.

The Goblin King seemed to take her sudden silence as acceptance, for he motioned to the others to bring the smallest Dwarf forward. All at once, Asha came to life.

"NO!" She screamed with such force that blood splattered against her lips. "No! Leave him be!"

"I didn't quite catch that." The Goblin laughed, placing a hand on his small, stubby ear. "Would you mind speaking more clearly?"

"Me." Asha wheezed, her heart pounding painfully. "Whip me, not him. Not Ori. I'll stop fighting. Me . . . " Asha's words trailed away as she forced her body to still. She was breathing in sharp, panting gasps when the Goblins shifted so that she faced the Company. Her face was pale, paler than it's usual fine china, and her eyes dark, all pupil, none of the bright emerald showing through her terror. She smiled slightly at the Company, mouthing words they could not hear, but they read from her lips.

'Fine. I'm fine. I'll be fine. Don't let Ori look. Don't look at all. I'll be fine. . ." The words repeated themselves, again and again, as if it were a prayer, while the large Goblin hastily cut through her knitted shirt, and the fine under clothes the Elves had provided in Rivendell.

For a moment, all was still. But that moment was gone far too soon and, suddenly, the Goblin lashed forward, causing Asha to jerk hard against the others of his kind holding her to her knees. The reaction was nothing more than an instinctive impulse to escape, to free herself from her captors, but the only sound she made was a thin whine that escaped through her nose.

For an instant, Asha though that the blow hadn't connected, for an instant she was numb and she felt nothing. But then -

The pain hit like a wave, burning through her back to her chest and out through her ribs, causing a strangled, choked scream to escape her lips. Her eyes went wide from the pain, and she buckled in agony, the moment seeming to last a lifetime.

But, for the Goblin King, it was only the beginning.


	30. Chapter Twenty Nine - An Unexpected Reveal

Asha tried to listen to the world around her, but it was deathly quiet. The only sound that came into focus was her own ragged breathing and the sharp whine that escaped her lips with every lash from the Goblin's arm.

She strained her ears to listen but she heard nothing, not even the shouts from the Dwarves, or the screeches from the Goblins. Lazily, she turned her head to stare at the Company, eyes unfocused, head bobbing in time with her heartbeat. Her sore body and muscles throbbed, and the lashes across her back protested with every movement. The Goblin was good; well practiced in his art, he had yet to pull a single drop of blood from her skin, but the pain was nearly unbearable.

In the beginning, she had moved to kick her legs, to jerk her arms, anything to escape, but the thought of Ori taking her place kept her still, her Other held firmly in check. She screamed through and thrashed with every blow, but her energy had quickly waned. And after the fifth blow - but who was counting - she couldn't feel it any longer. It was almost as if it were happening to someone else. She could still hear the monsters all around her, could feel the pain racking through her body, knew that the lashes were landing again and again and again, but a strange lethargy stole through her frame. Her vision fogged, and her mind drifted until she found a dreamscape of peace.

The only thing that held her attention in those moments where the sight of Kili's eyes, wide and the color of freshly tilled earth, filled with tears even as he roared at the Goblins around him, though she could not hear his words.

A Goblin, the very same who had introduced the Company to the Goblin King, lost interest in the Changling then and moved to rummage through the pile of weapons and personal objects. It tossed aside Oin's crumpled ear-horn only to turn to a sleek silver sword, which it unsheathed slowly, only to throw it aside with a squeal of fear; as other Goblins noted the sword, they scrambled away in terror.

She heard a crash then, followed by light so blinding that it forced her to close her eyes for a moment. Then she saw Kili kneeling at her side. He seemed to be speaking urgently to Asha, but she couldn't understand his words. She tried to respond, but her tongue was like a lead rock within her mouth.

Gently, he brushed the hair away from her face and touched her cheek with cool fingers. His eyes overflowed with tears, and a sparkling diamond drop fell to her lips. She tasted the salty tear and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, he smiled. The warmth of the smile enveloped her and wrapped her in a blanket of soothing peace. Kili carefully lifted her into his arms, and everything went black or Asha.

~~~

"Take up arms!" Gandalf called out loudly in the quiet that followed his blast of light. "Fight! Fight!"

The Dwarves scrambled for their weapons, giving no pause before swinging wildly at the Goblins around them, screaming war cries and unintelligible insults. Throughout all this, the Goblin King screamed for their heads.

And when Gandalf's voice cut through the clamor of combat, commanding them to run, they did. Rushing forward like a swollen river, they ran, Kili carrying Asha over his back, one hand holding her steady while the other wielded his sword. They sprinted across bridges that shuddered beneath their feet, across walkways that seemed to be in danger of collapsing, through hordes of Goblins that descended from above and rose from below. Dwalin kept to Kili's front, while Fili covered his brother's back, a bitter sort of panic coursing through his veins at the sight of Asha's head lolling weakly upon his brother's shoulder.

There was no way for the Company to know if Gandalf knew the way out, but they followed nonetheless, attacking any Goblin that dared to come to close, shoving them from the high walkways, cutting them down where they stand.

And then there was the Goblin King, grinning down at them, blocking the only way. "You thought you could escape me?" He sneered, swinging widely with his scepter, knocking several of his own down to their doom. "What do you plan to do now, Wizard?"

Gandalf seemed to sigh then, before stepping forward to stab the Goblin in the eye. The Goblin King fell to his knees, and Gandalf lazily slashed his sword across the Goblins distended stomach.

Looking down in shock, the Goblin King seemed amused. "That'll do it." He acknowledged just before Gandalf cut his throat, causing him to collapse, his weight cracking the fragile walkway so that it fell from its supports and crashed to the ground.

When they finally stopped falling, Kili was amazed to find that he was still alive, despite the heavy wooden beam laying across his chest, crushing his ribs.

"Well, tha' coulda been worse!" Bofur called happily, already wriggling his way from the pile of broken wood and comrades. No sooner had the words left his mouth then the body of the Goblin King came crashing down on them.

Kili fought his way free, ignoring the complaints of his friends and family, only to find Asha laying brokenly under a pile of boards, protected from the crushing weight of the Goblin King by a strong beam. Carefully looping his hands under her arms, he ignored her cry of pain as he pulled her from the rubble. Asha seemed to focus on him for a moment, eyes wide and glassy, before they drifted shut once more, shivers racking through her body harshly, causing her to shake in his arms.

"There's too many!" Dwalin shouted, drawing Kili's attention to the army of Goblins bearing down on them from the side of the cave. "We can no' fight them."

"Only one thing will save us!" Gandalf called. "Daylight. Come. Come!"

~~~

When Asha regained consciousness, it was dark, and she was laying beside a roaring campfire. No. Not a campfire. A forest fire. The forest around her was burning and she knew she would burn with it. Already her back was a mass of pain and flames, burning hotter than the hottest forge. Slumping forward, Asha heaved but nothing save a bit of spittle came up, causing her stomach to roll painfully.

The tree they sat in, for it was a tree, Asha realized, pitched forward suddenly, plunging down into empty space. Kili yelled as he clutched at a branch, pulling himself up. Fili did the same only a few feet away and they both turned to find Asha hanging drunkenly by one hand, eyes closed, a pained expression on her face.

Kili looked up for his Uncle and felt shocked run through his blood as if someone had stabbed him. Thorin was upright, darting forward along the length of the tree as if it were a sturdy bridge, determination on his face. Lifting his sword and his shield he gave a wordless battle cry that echoed through the trees.

The white Warg knocked Thorin to the ground, but he quickly moved back to his feet, only to be lifted from the spot as the white Warg locked it's jaw over his shoulder, growling loudly, shaking him as if he were no more than a rag doll.

To the Companies shock, it was Bilbo that raced forward to aid Thorin, tiny sword in hand. His battle cry was small and light, but he stuck the Warg with enough force to send the Warg skittering away.

"Kill him." The white Orc hissed, and Asha growled low in her throat, startling everyone throughout the clearing.

"Don't touch him." She rasped, her voice carrying through the field of fight and flame.

The white Orc turned to stare down the woman painfully pulling herself so that she stood across the tree, a gentle wind whipping her hair across her face.

"And you will do what, little human? Stop me?" The white Orc mocked, his eyes hard as he turned to watch one of his own move forward to land the killing blow against Bilbo.

Asha moved forward, her body nearly vibrating as she slipped through the branches. "I said don't touch HIM!" Asha roared, and a moment later her body shifted and she was running toward the Orc with bloodlust in her eyes.

The Company watched in horrified fascination as Asha's head bowed and her shoulders shuddered and shook, a silent agony rippling through her body as she shook, shaking; her skin peeling away, her bones shifting beneath muscles, muscle shifting beneath the skin, and then . . .

And then there was a large, pale blond wolf sprinting towards the white Warg, fragments of cloth billowing behind her in the wind.

A large, dark Warg darted forward, running down the small hill it stood upon; without hesitation, the wolf fell onto the Warg, cutting it off before it could get to Bilbo, who had obviously been the goal.

The Warg howled and tried to get its teeth into her, but she was faster, ducking to the right so that it missed her exposed its throat all at once. She didn't wait before moving forward, piling her teeth into the Wargs flesh with absolute precision. It was dead within moments.

There was a deep, rumbling growl leaving her throat then, and she shifted so that she stood before Bilbo and Thorin both, eyes narrowed and a fierce snarl twisting her muzzle so that her sharp teeth shown red in the moonlight. A second Warg decided to test it's luck then, and the wolf quickly dealt with it in the same manner as the first.

For a moment, Azog seemed shocked and when suddenly something latched around Asha's middle, plucking her from the battle in one smooth movement. Wind rushed passed her, causing her hair to trail after her in a reverse waterfall, and then she was falling, a short growl exploding from her mouth just before she landed on something solid.

Asha forced herself to sit up, her eyes focusing for a moment on the strange, shifting surface beneath her, and, after a moment, she realized that she was laying across the back of a giant eagle.

Her legs went out from beneath her then, and she slumped down into the dusty, oil like smell of the feathers that lay beneath her, the world around her grown dark.

Her last thought before the darkness overtook her was of Bilbo.


	31. Chapter Thirty - An Unexpected Love

Light pulsed behind Asha's eyelids, forcing her to crack them open painfully. Her back burned, and her head felt thick and fuzzy. As she tried to move, her sore, cramped muscles protested. A thin whine escaped her lips, and she felt gentle hands lift her head to give her water. Her throat suddenly burned as if she had swallowed the sun. The heat moved deeper into her body until it exploded in her core. She was on fire from the inside out, and she whimpered from the terrible pain that seemed to center in her chest and back, pulsing like wildfire.

The hands set her head down gently and picked up her hand to stroke her fingers.

"I'm so sorry. This should have happened to me, not you. You don't deserve this."

The fingers stroked her cheek. "I don't know how to fix this. Oin might. Oin must. But he's busy seeing to Thorin. We think he might have broken his ribs. I don't know what to do. I don't even know how much damage was inflicted on you, or if the lashes are lethal." The fingers moved restlessly against hers, and she whimpered. "We can't lose you, Asha. Thier afraid, but not that you turned into a wolf. They're afraid we're going to lose you. Kili's afraid he's going to lose you."

The burning in her back overtook her then until pain clouded her vision. She started convulsing. The pain was beyond anything she'd ever felt before. The cool fingers bathed her face with a cool, wet towel, but nothing could distract her from the fire burning through her veins. It was excruciating. After a moment, she realized that a low keening sound was escaping her lips, but she was powerless to stop it.

"Are you alright?" The cool fingers asked, and Asha flinched. Ori, she realized. It was Ori speaking to her. "Take this, Oin said it will help the pain." A small mound of leaves was pressed against her lips and the moment she took them into her mouth, it felt as though ice had been shot through her limbs, entering her heart, her lungs, her back, blissfully cool.

Ori lifted a water skin to her lips again, and Asha swallowed gratefully.

A second set of hands shifted her and then pulled her into the air, lifting her with strong arms.

At least the pain was gone, she thought dizzily. Whatever Ori had given her had numbed her. She became sleepy, but she fought it, wanting to see if the others had made it from the Goblin caves whole and well. She wanted to comfort them, and let herself be comforted. She wanted to explain her transformation and ease their fears. Her throat was thick, though, and all she could do was blurrily look at the Dwarves as they kneeled around her.

She was so tired. Her eyelids were too heavy to keep open. She closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come. Calloused, yet gentle, hands ran through her hair, and she smiled.

The arms squeezed her closer to their body and whispered something in her ear that she couldn't make out. Then darkness overtook her.

~~~

Grass tickled her cheek and neck. Her body still burned, but she could hear the world around her once again.

" . . . I'll no be able to help the lass until Bombur has a fire going and water has been warmed. I'll need boiled water to clean her wounds, and warm water to soak her clothes so the clotted blood separates from her back." Oin then, talking about how to care for her.

" But she was fine! She didn't bleed during the lashes at all!" A second voice protested, the voice as familiar as her own.

"That specific whip is designed to weaken the skin, and batter the muscles beneath it, sending debilitating pain throughout the victim. And once they start moving? The skin ruptures and they are rendered immobile." That would be Gandalf. Graveled voice, calm and cool as an astringent. "We needed to move, and when she was jostled in young Kili's arms, it caused the wounds along her back to burst open."

"This is my fault?" Kili, then. His voice was husky as if he'd been screaming.

"Nah, lad, it woulda happened no matter wha'," Dwalin, his voice hard.

"Master Dwalin is quite correct. Once the blood is washed away and stitches applied, her back will heal in short order." There was a short pause, or maybe Asha blacked out, she could be sure, but the next words she heard were this: "She is a Changling Thorin Oakenshield, and she has been such since you've met her. You will not harm her because you do not understand."

"She lied!" A voice roared, and Asha winced, causing her to cry out. The world around her went quiet as she forced her eyes open, her back throbbing unbearably, causing tears to cascade down her cheeks like a river.

Asha shook her head, ignoring the crippling pain, her voice breaking as she forced herself to speak. "Sorry. So sorry. Couldn't tell. Couldn't say. Not safe. Couldn't endanger you all. Didn't want to worry about you all. Didn't want . . . couldn't put . . . . sorry. Sorry. Sorry . . . " Her voice faded to a soft whisper before fading away completely, and only her mouth moved. Her breath exited her mouth, in short, hard gasps, and she whimpered from the pain of her wounds.

"She has no time for your squabbles. Allow Oin to treat her wounds or allow her to die, but make your decision quickly Thorin Oakenshield, for she does not have long." Gandalf commanded.

Asha tried to listen after that, but once again, darkness overtook her, and she faded away into the blackness.

~~~

Light against her eyelids, forcing her to peel away the glue that held them together. Her head felt as if it were filled with cotton, but her back felt much better. Less like she had lain in a roaring fire, and more like she was laying against a hot stone, warmed by the sun. Hot, but not uncomfortably so.

"Asha? Asha!" A voice called out, and Asha nearly flinched from the loudness of it.

As she tried to move, a tightness pulled across her back, and she winced. "I feel as if I lost a match to a prized pugilist."

"You did much more than that, lass. Here."

Kili crouched beside her and helped her to gingerly sit up. He examined her face closely for a moment, before sitting behind her to prop her back against his chest. He held a water skin to her lips. "Drink," he said softly. He held the water skin for her and tipped it back slowly, but Asha could not swallow fast enough, and some of the water dribbled down from her slack mouth to her chin, and then down to her chest.

"Thank you, now I'm wet," Asha complained half-heartedly, her fingers twining through his.

She could feel his smile on the back of her neck. "Perhaps that was my intention."

Asha snorted, too tired and sore to be bothered to sound like a lady. Gingerly, she brought a hand to her face. She skimmed her fingertips across her cheek and neck, down her shoulder, pausing just before she reached the bandages that covered her back - thick cotton bindings that served as protection from flies and other such bugs, all while preserving her modesty. Her skin tingled, yet it felt numb at the same time. "It feels as if I swallowed an entire jar of poppy tears, and I'm only just regaining the feeling of my body back. Here, hand me the waterskin. I think I can lift it myself now."

Kili let go of the water skin and snaked both arms around her waist, pulling her back to rest fully against his chest. His cheek grazed hers, and he murmured quietly, "How are you?"

"Alive. I suppose I have Oin to thank for that?"

Kili stiffened for a moment before nodding. "Don't you remember?"

"No. How long have I been unconscious?"

"Three days."

Asha shivered. "Three days? What happened? The last thing I remember is Gandalf yelling at Thorin about my being a Changling, and then I thought I was dying."

"You didn't die." Kili sighed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders carefully. "I wouldn't have allowed it. Uncle confided to your care once I threatened to leave the Company if he did not. He's still distrustful, though, and expects an explanation on your . . . strange transformation."

Asha said nothing; instead, she opted to drink deeply from the waterskin. After a moment, she heard Kili let out a deep breath.

Quietly, he said, "I've experienced a lot in my life. I've been in bloody battles. I've been with friends who were killed. I've seen terrible things done to Man and Elf and Dwarf and even beasts, but I've never truly felt fear. I've been troubled. I've also been uneasy and tense. I've been in danger, but I've never experienced that cold-sweat kind of fear, the kind that can eat a man alive or bring him to his knees and make him beg. I thought that I and my people had suffered through so much, had seen so much, that nothing could scare me anymore. That nothing could bring me to that point."

He brushed a brief kiss on her neck. "I was wrong. When I saw you being whipped, and then, later, when you ran towards Bilbo and my Uncle, shivering as if you were running through a blizzard, that dusty appearance blushing over your skin just before you seemed to explode and in your place stood a giant pale wolf? I was terrified."

"I'm sorry, Kili, I know that my wolf is terrifying, but I -"

"I wasn't afraid of you. I was afraid . . . that I was going to lose you. It was unbearable. The most agonizing part was realizing that I couldn't do anything to save you, to help you. Nothing."

Asha swallowed forcefully. "It's okay. I'm here. You need to be afraid. I'm still around to help you all reclaim the mountain."

He squeezed her waist and whispered softly, "Reclaiming the mountain was the furthest thing from my mind, Asha. I thought you were dying. I thought . . . I thought Uncle was going to let you die, all because of your ability. I thought . . ." Kili's voice faded until there were no more words left, prompting Asha to turn in his lap and rest her head against his shoulder, her legs thrown over his. Her movements forced a wave of pain to spread across her back, but she ignored it.

Sighing deeply, Asha pressed a gentle kiss on his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, Kili. I'm strong, and I'll stay by your side as long as you'll have me."

"What if I ask for forever?" Kili asked in a low voice.

"Then I will stay forever," Asha replied, her voice equally low.

Kili nearly smiled, but, instead, he leaned forward to carefully knock his forehead against hers. "Men lananubukhs menu. Men Valaki."

"What does that mean?" Asha asked sleepily, her eyes already drifting closed.

"Hmmm?"

"Men lananubukhs menu? I've heard you say it several times since Rivendell. What does it mean?" Asha clarified, her voice slurring as she began to drift once more.

"I love you. It means that I love you, Asha." Kili answered softly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

In his arms, Asha stirred slightly, a small smile ghosting across her lips. "I love you, too." She said, but the words were so quiet Kili wondered if she had truly said them.

And then Asha was asleep once more, leaving Kili to sit at the edge of the Company, a Changling resting on his lap, and the memory of her back, bloodied, bruised, and raw, dancing through his mind.


	32. Chapter Thirty One - The Desolation of Pain

Part Two

 

When Asha woke, it was near daybreak, if the rosy pinks and yellows of the eastern sky were any indication. She stretched lazily, and her stomach tightened in knots as the movement pulled at the sore muscles of her back. She was tangled in the covers of her bedroll, wearing only her undergarments and light bandages around her torso.

She reached out to Kili, but her hand met empty air.

Frantically, she pulled herself into a sitting position, eyes darting through the campsite in misery.

The Company was gone.

~~~

Asha woke with a start, her body shaking and a bitter pain pulsing through her back. It itched terribly, like a thousand fire ants dancing across her skin. But she knew that it was only the itch of healing.

A week. A week had passed since she had awoken at the Carrock with the Company and they had traveled hard and fast to avoid the detection of the Orc pack on their tail. And yet, despite her pain and exhaustion, she still dreamed at night. She dreamed that her friends, her love, had abandoned her. She dreamed that she was alone, once again, left to die in the wilds.

Somehow, the orc pack made it into the valley by midafternoon. “He must have pushed his people very hard,” Gandalf said as they grouped behind a rocky outcropping to strategize. “I’d not be surprised if the wargs they ride have dropped out from underneath them.”

“It matters little of how they caught up to us, only that they did.” Thorin snapped. “How far are we from this friend of yours?”

"No more than half a league. Master Burglar, I'll ask that you go and see what you can of our enemy We need to know how much time we have."

Bilbo grew pale, worry clear in his eyes, but he did not argue. Instead, he scrambled over rocks and roots and disappeared from sight.

Asha gingerly leaned against Kili, her mind sluggish. Half a league . . . She could walk that distance easily. She'd spent much of her time in the past months walking over vale and valley and mountain. She could make it half a league of lowland easily.

She would have too.

She hadn't realized that her eyes had fluttered shut until she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Asha, are you alright?"  
  
"I'm only resting." Asha slurred, only to realize that she'd spoken her native tongue without thought. There was a light touch on her face - a warm pressure on her lips, on her eyelids. She could make then open know that she'd found them again. It took a moment for her eyes to focus. Kili was staring down at her, eyes wide and expression drawn tight.

But then Bilbo was back, scampering over the rock and roots once again, only this time he approached them instead of running the other way.

"How close is the pack?" Thorin demanded, his voice has harsh as gravel.

"Too close. No less than two leagues. But that's not the worst of it -" Bilbo stated carefully, his toes curling around one another as he thought of the best way to explain all that he had seen.

"They've picked up our scent?" Bofur asked nervously, his hat flopping wildly as he spoke.

"No, not yet, but I'm sure they will soon." Bilbo rushed, eyes darting through the group before they landed on Asha.

"Did they see you? They saw you." Gandalf interjected, leaning heavily on his staff.

"No, that's not -"

"What did I tell you? Quiet as a mouse! Excellent burglar material!" Gandalf crowd, his eyes shining brightly.

"Will you please listen to me!" Bilbo cried over the chattering approval emanating from the Company. "I'm trying to tell you that there is something else out there!"

"What form did he take?" Gandalf asked, his words slow and careful. "Like a bear, but larger?

Bilbo seemed to have a thousand words on the tip of his tongue, but at Gandalf's words, they all faltered. "Yes - Yes! How did you? - but it was larger, much larger!"

Asha couldn't be sure if she had fallen asleep or lost consciousness, but suddenly she was running over flat meadows, down a rocky slope with trees whose branches seemed to reach out to slap against her bare skin, through a shallow stream that spread into a thick marsh in the distance.

Her breath turned ragged - soundless, tearless sobs as she ran. The sun crept up her back; its heat soaked deep into the darkness of her bloodied skin.

Her shadow was a small circle beneath her when she regained awareness. Painstakingly, she continued to move her feet. Tiny sharp rocks were embedded in the soft soles of her feet. Without really knowing why she continued to push herself forward.

Her footsteps were a quick hush against leaves fallen to earth. A strange shudder rocked her chest, and a hoarse coughing ripped its way up her throat. The stream of gravelly coughs rattled on, but it wasn't until she felt her eyes pricking for tears that wouldn't come that she realized that she was laughing.

"We're . . . never . . . going . . . to make it!" She gasped between spasms of hysteria. She staggered forward as though she were drunk, her footprints trailing unevenly behind her.

"Yes," Kili growled at her side, his fingers wound tightly around her's. "Yes . . . we . . . will. Have a . . . . little faith . . . little . . . wolf."

Asha laughed at him now. The sound was sucked away by the tepid wind.

Kili's words caught her mid-laugh. She choked on the warm air, her chest throbbing from her fit of morbid hysteria. By the time she could breathe again, all trace of her black humor was gone. Instinctively, her eyes swept the land, looking for some evidence that she was not the first to waste her life this way. The land was impossibly vast, but she couldn't halt her frantic thoughts of protection.

Her body began to falter. Her muscles screamed out to her for mercy, as if she had any means to soothe them.

And then her body was exploding outward like a flower in bloom; mid-stride, a long tremor shivered down Asha's spine. She leaped forward, diving headfirst into the empty air. She burst out of her skin - shreds of the scraps that had covered her billowing back into the air. It happened so quickly that if any of the Company had blinked, they would have missed the entire transformation. One moment it was Asha diving into the air, and then it was the gigantic, pale wolf - so enormous that it was hard to imagine its mass somehow fitting inside Asha - charging forward.

Asha might have turned to attack then, but a hand-woven into her fur kept her from losing herself to the madness of the wolf. It wanted nothing more than to turn and destroy the enemies at her back, but she contented herself with the thought of attacking any who dared come too close to her or her pack.

She was the last to the door of the grand cottage that spread across the land before them, but the pile of Dwarves at the door made her thankful for that once small grace.

Gandalf, bringing up the rear of the Company, helped Kili drag her weak form through the doorway, and when she was inside, there was nothing to stop her from falling forward in a huddled heap of fur and blood and pain. Even her tremendous strength of mind could ask no more than that of her failing body. She could barely see. She couldn't seem to find the oxygen in the air she sucked in through her snout. The pain of it all brought rough whimpers breaking through her lips.

Coughing, she staggered toward a dried pile of hay. She wanted to get to the thin streaks of shade before she fell.

A low wall threw its shadow over her, and her legs fell out from under her body. She sprawled forward, never wanting the sun on her face again, not when it resided in her back. Her head turned to the side on its own, searching for cool air to fill her lungs. She stared at the hay inches from her nose and listened to the rasping of her breath.

After a time, long or short she couldn't be sure, she closed her eyes. Her lids were red and bright inside. She couldn't feel the faint shade; maybe it no longer touched her.

Asha couldn't be sure how long she lay there. It was too hard to concentrate on the passage of time. There was more pain then she thought there should be. All the muscles in her body rioted, cramping and spasming as they fought against the pain.

Asha didn't fight. She drifted and waited, her thoughts dipping in and out of memories without a pattern. While she was still lucid, she hummed a lullaby in her head. It was the one her mother used to use to comfort her when the ground was too hard, or the air was too cold, or the fear was too great to sleep. It seemed that her head was cradled against a broad shoulder, and a new lullaby comforted her.

Her lids turned black as night fell. It was dark and silent for a timeless space, and then there was a sound.

It barely roused her. She wasn't sure if she had imagined it. Maybe it was an Orc, working its' way into the home where they hid. She lost her train of thought and forgot about the sound.

Something shook her, pulling at her numb arms, dragging them. She couldn't form the words to wish that it would be quick now, but that was her hope. She was too weak to protect herself, in too much pain, and she worried after her pack, her mind spinning lazily. She waiting for the cut of a knife or sword. Instead, the dragging turned into pushing, and she felt her face roll toward the ceiling.

She hadn't realized it, but she had shifted - her body was now that of a small female human, her back a riot of pain and blood.

It poured over her face - wet, cool, and impossible. It dribbled over her eyes, washing the grit from them. Her eyes fluttered, blinding against the dripping.

She didn't care about the grit in her eyes. Her chin arched up, desperately searching, her mouth opening and closing with blind, pathetic weakness, like a newly hatched bird.

She thought she heard a sigh.

And then the water flowered into her mouth, and she gulped at it and choked on it. The water vanished while she choked, and her weak hands grasped out for it. A flat, heavy thumping pounded her back until she could breathe. Her hands kept clutching the air, looking for the water.

She knew that she heard the sigh that time.

Something pressed to her cracked lips, and the water flowed again. She guzzled, careful not to inhale it that time. Not that she cared if she choked, but she did not want the water taken away again.

She drank until her belly stretched and ached. The water trickled to a stop, and she cried out hoarsely in protest. Another rim was pressed to her lips, and she gulped frantically until it was empty too.

It wasn't until the taste faded from her mouth that she realized that the second skin of water had been laced with poppy tears. She was tired, past the point of exhaustion and into some deeper, more painful state.

And then she was asleep, a deep, heavy voice lulling her into the blackness, even as she tried to decipher the words.


	33. Chapter Thirty Two - The Desolation of Night

When Asha awoke, there was no disorientation. She knew exactly where she was roughly speaking, yet she kept her eyes closed and her breathing even. Her wolf was so close to the surface she couldn't fight the instinct to learn as much as she could about her exact situation without giving away the fact that she was conscious again.  
  
She was hungry. Her stomach knotted and clenched and made angry noises, but she doubted that the noises would betray her - she was positive that it had gurgled and complained as she slept.  
  
Her head ached fiercely. It was impossible to know how much was from fatigue and how much was from the lashing she had taken.  
  
She was laying on a soft surface. It conformed to her slight weight easily and smelled of lemongrass.  
  
Her back throbbed.  
  
She knew that it had probably been that pain that had awoken her; she felt far from rested.  
  
Something warm and wet-lashed over her face and Asha started, her eyes flashing open to find a bitch-hound licking at her scraped cheek. The animal's wide blue eyes meet her's, the thick tail wagging so rapidly it shook the entire body before it continued on.  
  
Smiling ruefully, Asha brushed her fingers against the bitch's soft ears, the pain in her back settling into a steady throb as she moved.  
  
It was dark. Not pitch black, but very dark nonetheless.  
  
The air was fresh and smelled of hay and sweet grass and flowers, with a peculiar acrid bite that seemed to cling to the back of her throat. The temperature was warmer than it had been in the mountains but the humidity of the home made it almost uncomfortable. She was sweating again, the water Kili had given her the night before finding its way out through her pores.  
  
She could hear the sound of light breathing echoing back toward her from only a few feet away.  
  
The quiet murmur of voices drew Asha from the musings of her surroundings, and she rolled to her side, jerking slightly from the pain that splintered across her back as she rolled from a high bed, her hands and knees coming flush with hay and a rough wooden floor.  
  
Her joints protested painfully against the action of standing, and she whimpered slightly. The bitch knocked against her legs as she stumbled forward, tail still wagging vigorously.  
  
Hay and Dwarves were strewn across the floor of the large, wooden house, and Asha smiled as she spotted the three sons of Durin laying in a heap, their limbs intertwined together in a show of family familiarity.  
  
As she rounded a corner, she found Gandalf standing near a roaring hearth with a large man who seemed to be made up of hair and muscles. The two spoke softly, and Asha realized that they had been the quiet murmur in the dark.  
  
The taller of the two grinned when he caught sight of her approach, and he sunk down to one knee so suddenly that Asha startled, jerking away from the movement. Her hips connected with the wooden floor first and her hands swung up to protect her face as her head thunked painfully against one of the low stable walls.  
  
The giant of a man drew away from her reaction with a small frown. "I smell your blood, little one." He said, looking her over carefully.  
  
"Asha is strong," Gandalf said, his voice marred slightly by worry. "Any blood you smell now, Beorn, is from days ago."  
  
Beorn's frown deepened, his lips tight with anger. A vein in his forehead pulsed as he watched the small female carefully move to her feet. "Has no one treated you?"  
  
"Of course," Asha replied instantly, her thoughts running back to the previous night, of Kili carefully holding the waterskin as she drank, and then to the days she lost to the darkness. She was unsure of how she came to this house, but the giant seemed to hold no ill will against her, and there was something familiar about his scent . . . something so familiar it tugged at her memories like a small child might tug at their mother's hands.  
  
"Food's on the table," Beorn growled. His hands were around her waist then, and Asha yelped as he picked her up like a child before placing her at the table. He moved as if she weighed no more than a feather. Perhaps to the giant, she didn't.  
  
Gandalf smiled as he drew out a chair for himself, eyeing the Changling carefully as she all but lunged for the tumbler of water. Asha, for her part, seemed unaware of Beorn's mouth twisting with amusement as she jerked the wooden mug to her lips. She was sure that the smile at her expense would bother her later but all she cared about now was the water. She wondered if she would ever take the liquid for granted again.  
  
She'd gulped half the water down when a new scent caught her attention. It was bread - a light, uneven roll - that she smelled first but there was also a bowl of clear liquid with the tang of onions and garlic. As she leaned closer, she could see darker chunks on the bottom, and she knew they would be vegetables. Beside this was stubby white tubes. She guessed they were vegetables as well, but she didn't recognize the variety. Heaps of berries and nuts were spread across the table, and Asha's eyes went wide when she took note of the blackberries and strawberries.  
  
It took only seconds for her to make those discoveries, but even in that short time her stomach nearly humped through her mouth trying to reach the food.  
  
She ripped into the bread. It was very dense, studded with whole-grain kernels that caught in her teeth. The texture was gritty but the flavor was wonderfully rich. She couldn't remember anything tasting more delicious to her, not even Belladonna's cherry cakes. Her jaw worked as fast as it could, but she swallowed most of the mouthfuls of tough bread half-chewed. She could hear each mouthful hit her stomach with a gurgle. It didn't feel as good as she had thought it would. Too long empty, her stomach reacted to the food with discomfort.  
  
Beorn smiled at the Changling, for he knew the appetite of a skin-changer. "Honey," he said, nudging forward an oversized clay pot filled to the brim with the amber liquid. "Good for healing."

Asha smiled. "My mother used to tell me that." She said before spooning a generous amount onto what was left of her bread.  
  
Beorn grunted, watching her chew carefully, only slightly worried that she would choke.  
  
The honey felt thick in her throat, but she continued to eat quickly her stomach beginning to protest at the sudden fill of food.  
  
She ignored that and moved on to the stew, which she found to go down easier. Aside from the onions she had smelled before the taste was mild. The chunks along the bottom were soft. She drank it straight from a bowl and wished that it had been deeper. She tipped it back to make sure she'd gotten every drop.

The white vegetables were crunchy in texture and woody in taste. Some kind of root. They weren't as satisfying as the soup or as tasty as the bread, but she was grateful for their bulk. She wasn't full - not close - and she would have started on the berries next if it wasn't for the body that all but threw itself next to her.

"Asha! You're awake! When did you awaken? You should have let Oin or Kili or someone know." Bofur said breathlessly,

Asha shrugged as she scooped a handful of blackberries into her mouth, her eyes watering at the taste as the berries burst across her tongue.

"You've been unconscious for six days. You should have let someone know you woke." Bofur said sternly, his voice almost as firm as Dori's when he was reprimanding Nori.

Asha's voice failed her as she stared in horror at the Dwarf.

"You hadn't realized, had you?" Bofur asked softly, his eyes gentle.

After a brief moment, she shook her head.

"It gave your back time to heal," Bofur explained quickly. "You were so weak when we came here, and then you shifted and we thought that you would never shift back. It wasn't until the night before last that you became human again. Everyone has been sick with worry."

Asha snorted slight, casting her eyes towards Thorin, who slept only feet away from the large table.

Bofur sighed. "Everyone has been worried, Asha, even Thorin."

Asha found that she was suddenly exhausted. Now that her stomach had settled a bit and felt more than full, the rest of her pains were not sharp enough to keep her awake. She hesitated before moving, afraid to disturb the Dwarves sleeping all around her, but her body wanted to uncurl and stretch out. She did so as silently as she could, trying to find a place in the straw that would accommodate her body. Finally, she found herself stretched out next to the Durin's three: Thorin, Fili, and Kili. She pillowed her face against Kili's shoulder, ignoring the tight pull of muscles along her back as she shifted, and closed her eyes.

"How bad is it?" Asha asked softly as Bofur moved to settle near her head.

"How bad is what?" Bofur questioned, his voice slurred slightly as his hair brushed against hers.

"My back? How bad is it?" Asha repeated, her hand unconsciously slipping into Kili's.

Bofur hesitated for a moment, mulling over her words. "It could have been worse, much worse, all things considering." He mused, his voice incredulous rather than thoughtful. He wasn't over the surprise of it all yet. Asha hadn't been surprised in the first place. Goblins were horrible creatures, capable of horrible things.

"In other words: I'm not dead, right? And no one abandoned me, it would seem." Asha retorted. "It would have been poor manners for you all to get me in that mess and then abandon me."

Bofur ignored her sour tone. "I never would have abandoned you. I don't think Kili or Fili or any of the others would have either, even if it meant the failure of our quest. And your back has nearly healed. It's only got a bit more before there won't be a risk of the skin tearing back open. You'll always have . . . scars, though. Oin says they may be bad."

"There's some grace left yet," Asha said softly, her mind drifting. The pain that she felt in her back was nothing compared to what it had been. "And my people rarely scar farther than thin white lines. I doubt that I'll be an exception." Her mind began to wonder then. She had a pale scar that covered the whole of her left hand, the one that held Kili's, and she had forgotten how she had gotten it.

Fire - that is what it had been. Asha remembered burning the distinctive markings along the palm of her hand and fingertips away some years ago in an accident. She had grabbed a pan she hadn't realized was hot. She remembered how the pain had shocked her - it was so unexpectedly sharp and demanding.

It had only been an accident, though. Quickly treated with cool water and salves.

No one had done it on purpose, continued on from the first sickening pain, drawing it out longer and longer . . .

Asha yawned widely, her pronounced canine teeth gleaming softly in the dim light of the cottage. "Thank you, Bofur. For everything." Her voice was faint.

Bofur was silent for a moment before he leaned forward and carefully bumped his forehead into hers, the touch no more than a whisper of skin. "He loves you, you know."

"Hmmm?"

"Kili. He loves you, although he might not say it out loud, yet. When you unconscious, and we thought we might lose you, he fought with Thorin. He nearly wanted to leave you behind, and Kili threatened to stay behind with you." In Asha's mind eye, she saw Kili, face read and eyes desperate, his hands gesturing wildly as he argued with his Uncle. "He was so angry, and when Thorin began to yell, it wasn't Gandalf that calmed him, or anyone else. It was Kili. All he did was pick you up and start to walk away, back the way we came. When Thorin yelled after him, all he said was 'The Elves of Rivendell will heal her, even if you don't want to allow it.' I don't think I've ever seen Thorin look so afraid in all my life, Asha." Bofur hesitated for a long moment, and then the rest of the words came all in a rush. "I thought it was all physical attraction, to be honest. You're a very beautiful lass, and Kili's not a child to miss that, but when you were laying there, and you wouldn't wake up, or change back from that giant of a wolf, Kili stayed next to you, begging you to wake, begging you not to leave him."

Asha thought that she might have knocked her forehead against Bofur's then, her way of silently acknowledging his words, but she couldn't be sure. Small tremors started at the small of her back and ran up and down her spine. Her hands shook, and her teeth chattered softly together, despite the soggy heat that flooded the cabin.

The shivers past after a time, and when they were gone, Asha found that she was exhausted once more. Though the hey felt more uncomfortable than before, she was unconscious in moments.


	34. Chapter Thirty Three - The Desolation of Beorn's

The smell of food woke her. This time she was groggy and disoriented when she opened her eyes. An instinctive sense of panic had her hands trembling again before she was fully conscious.

The Dwarves were fast asleep upon the hay, even Thorin, and Asha yawned silently, her joints popping loudly as she shifted and stretched. The pain in her back was no more than a dull throbbing, a nearly painful reminder of the pain inflicted upon her.

Driven by her fierce thirst, she slowly detangled herself from the Durin brothers, and nearly sprinted to the table, where the same giant of a man, Beorn, she reminded herself, sat silently.

"Good morning, little wolf," Beorn said, nodding in her direction.

Asha froze, a glass half filled with water in one hand until he turned his head and started to whistle softly

Only now, when she was not quite so desperately thirsty, could she detect the strange, nearly honeyed aftertaste in the water. It matched the sweet smell of the air, but it was slightly stronger. The taste lingered in her mouth, inescapable.

Asha ate quickly, and her stomach reacted happily, accepting the food with better grace. It barely gurgled.

Her body had other needs, though, now that the loudest ones had been sated. She looked around the strange cabin, so much larger than she thought it needed to be - but, then, she was much smaller than the owner - and found that there didn't seem to be many options.

Asha rocked back and forth, debating. Her hips ached from curving to the bowed shape of the hay.

Beorn cleared his throat then, startling Asha. "You've been asleep for a very long time." He said, his face a deeper color under his dark beard. "Would you like to . . . clean up?"

Asha nodded.

"I would not mind a walk myself." His voice was cheerful, and he sprang to his feet with surprising agility.

Asha sprang to her feet and followed after quickly. Beorn led her through the cabin with sure, quick steps. The long hallways were no more than a series of bewildering twists in opposing directions. As they rounded yet another sharp V in the halls, Asha knew that she was hopelessly turned around.

She wondered as to how the cabin had come to be, how Beorn had found it, how they had all wound up there. But she kept her lips tight together, and her questions to herself. Beorn, while not of the Race of Man, was still a man, and she doubted he would appreciate being hounded after with questions first thing in the morning.

They ducked through a medium sized doorway, black against the brightness of the hallways. The skin along the back of her scalp tingled, but she didn't look behind her. The cabin was silent, but she was worried that one of the Dwarves might have been following. It was a relief to slip into the darkness of the new passageway. Beorn's hand touched her elbow to guide her, and she did not shrink away from it.

"You are smaller than I expected," Beorn muttered as he steered her through the dark halls. His words surprised her, and she startled slightly.

The flooring sloped downward under her feet. Ahead, a dim light kept her from total blindness.

"I'm tall for my race, actually." Asha murmured, her voice hoarse from lack of use.

Beorn laughed softly, shaking his head. "I'd forgotten how small the wolves really are. Much smaller than we bears ever were."

He paused briefly in case Asha might respond, and then went on.

"My people used to trade with yours, oh, years ago. Meats and furs and crops. Hand-made goods and gems that could only be found in our realm or yours. I doubt that you were more than a quickening in your mother's womb when orcs and the race of men began to stalk our people, hunting us down nearly to extinction."

They passed the dim light - it came from a small torch along the wall, making a small circle of brightness on the floor. When it was behind them, Asha could see another spot of illumination ahead.

"The Orcs killed and captured my people, you see. Not quite unlike how the men of the North enslaved yours." Another pause, shorter than the last. "We may be the last of our kind. You are lucky to have found one to love you despite what you are. Many races would spit upon our kind without a second thought."

"I'm sure that some of the group still might," Asha said softly, thinking back to Thorin's heated words.

The floor began to slant downward at a steeper angle. The terrain was broken into rough steps, but they seemed secure enough. Beorn led her down them confidently. As they dropped lower and lower into the ground - as Asha had realized they were - the air became thick with heat and humidity.

Asha stiffened slightly when she heard a babble of voices, drifting to them from somewhere ahead.

"You're Dwarven friends seemed to find this rather enjoyable." He promised.

A wide, open arch shimmered with moving light. It was the same color as the light of the lanterns, pure and white, but it flickered at a strange dancing pace.

"We are here," Beorn said with a large smile. "The ground under my home is riddled with these pathways. Lave tubes, it would seem. The valley used to be the base of a volcano. I suppose," Beorn added thoughtfully. "That it still is a volcano. Not quite dead, as you'll see. The pathways were created by bubbles of air that were caught in the lava as it cooled. I've put much work into it over the years. Some of it was easy - connecting the tubes took less time and energy than I would have thought." His voice trailed off as he pulled Asha through the archway.

The heat hit her first - like a wall of steam, the moist, thick air rolled over her and dewed on her skin. Her mouth opened automatically as she tried to pull a breath from the abruptly denser air. The smell was stronger than before - the same sweet-watered, honeyed tang that clung in her throat and flavored the water.

The murmuring babble of bass and soprano voices seemed to issue from every side, echoing off the walls. Asha squinted anxiously through the swirling cloud of moisture, trying to make out where the voices came from. It was brighter there - the ceiling was dazzling, the light dancing off the vapor, creating a shimmering curtain that almost blinded her. Her eyes struggled to adjust, and she clung to Beorn's hand in panic.

She was surprised that the strangely fluid babble did not respond in any way to their entrance. Perhaps, she mused, they couldn't see them yet, either.

"It is a bit close in here," Beorn said, almost apologetically, fanning at the steam in front of his face. His voice was relaxed, conversational in tone, and loud enough to make her jump. He spoke as if they were not surrounded. And the babble continued, oblivious to his voice. He blew the air then, and his breath cleared a section of mist, exposing the room for Asha to view.

Two rivers flowed through the dank, high-domed space. It was the noise of the running water that Asha had mistaken for voices - the water gushing over and under the dark volcanic rock. Beorn had spoken as if they were alone because they were.

It was really only one river and one small stream. The stream was closest; a shallow braided ribbon of silver in the light from above, coursing between low stone banks that seemed in danger of overflowing. A feminine, high-pitched murmur purred from its gentle ripples.

The male, bass gurgle came from the river, as did the thick clouds of vapor that rose from the gaping holes in the ground by the far wall. The river was black, submerged under the floor of the cavern, exposed by wide, round erosions along the length of the room. The holes looked dark and dangerous, the river barely visible as it rushed powerfully toward an invisible and unfathomable destination. The water seemed to simmer, such was the heat and the steam it produced. The sound of it, too, was like that boiling water.

"You must be careful," Beorn said. "The hot spring had a strong current, and should you fall in, you will not be coming back." The swift black eddies of the subterranean river were suddenly terrifying to Asha. She imagined being caught in the scalding current and shuddered.

Beorn placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. "Do not worry. If you watch your step, you will be fine. Now." He said, pointing to the far end of the cavern, where the shallow stream ran into a dark cave, "the first cave is the bathing room. I've dug the floor out to make a deep, wide tub. There's another cave just beyond that one, through the crevice. The room is used as the latrine, as the water dips underground once again."

Beorn pulled a lantern from the wall and held it out. The sight of it reminded her of the fire that had burned her hand as a child. She didn't know why the memory made her sad.

Asha took the flashlight from his hand slowly and nodded her head.

Beorn smiled in encouragement, and Asha followed his directions quickly. She shone the lantern all around the bathing room, and the odd flickering shadows it made were not comforting. The tub Beorn has spoken of was more the size of a small pool, and black as ink. Asha hurried through the slender crack at the back of the room to relieve herself, her bladder nearly bursting.

When she was finished, she made her way carefully into the bathing room. She could no longer see Beorn's shadow casting against the far wall, and she wondered if he had wandered back to the cabin.

She took off her shoes first so that she could feel the water with her toes.

The water was cool compared to the steamy air of the outer cavern. It felt nice. Stripping quickly, she waded in waist deep. She could feel the stream's current swirl around her ankles, hugging the rock. She was glad the water was not stagnant - it would have been upsetting to sully it, filthy as she was if that were the case.

She crouched down into the ink until she was immersed to her shoulders. A large mound of pale yellow soap sat at the edge of the tub, and Asha swam forward slowly, her back aching from the movement.

The soap burned mildly against her bare skin, but the sting was bearable because she knew it meant that she was going to be clean once again. It smelled faintly of honey and wildflowers, and Asha wondered if Beorn had made it himself, or if he had traded something of his own for the sweet smelling bar. When she was done lathering, her skin prickled everywhere and her back felt scalded. It seemed as if the places where the bruises had formed and then healed were more sensitive than the rest of her. She was happy to set the soap aside and rinse her body again and again until she was positive there was no way any sweat or dirt or blood or tears could have survived.

She sighed as she sloshed her way out of the pool. The water was very pleasant, as was the feeling of clean if prickling, skin. But she knew that she needed to join her friends if only to quell their panic upon waking up to find her missing.

She'd left her clothes on the loose rocks in the back corner, and she kicked a stone by accident, hard enough to hurt her barefoot, and it clattered loudly across the room, bouncing off the wall and landing in the pool with a plunk and a hurdle. The sound made her jump, though it wasn't all that loud next to the roar of the hot river in the outer room.

She had just bent over to wring her hair of the water still dripping from the long tresses.

"Knock, knock." A familiar voice called from the dark entry.

Spinning on her heel, Asha felt the breath leave her body all in a rush, her eyes wide as she started, much like a doe confronted with a hunter. "Kili."


	35. Chapter Thirty Four - The Desolation of Seduction

Kili stood in the doorway, the flickering torchlight bronzing his broad, muscled chest with its dusting of dark hairs. His abdomen looked hard and trim above the waistband of his breeches. He had the robust physique of a Dwarf.

Asha stared, dazed by his lack of modesty. Did he not realized that she had yet to pull her own clothes on?

She glided forward, but before she could extinguish the small torch that illuminated the bathing room, Kili caught her from behind and pulled her away.

"Leave it." He said, his voice rough and low. "I wish to look upon you."

Glancing back at him, she was relieved to see that he still wore his breeches. She couldn't yet reconcile herself to the fact that she was standing before him without a stitch of clothing on. The notion seemed shameful . . . and furtively exciting. Different than the time the group had found her bathing in the creek, or even when they saw her after a shift. 

Standing behind her, he ran his fingers lightly over her shoulders. She stood quietly, bemused by the shivers that prickled her skin. How extraordinary, to be tended by a man, to feel his fingers brush her skin in so familiar a fashion. He pushed her arms from her chest, where they had wrapped around herself, and then held her hands down by her side for a moment.

With a stately calm, that belied her inner anxiety, she leaned her head back against Kili's collarbone. She intended to speak, but he slid his arms around her waist and drew her back against him. He kissed her bare shoulder, tasting her with his tongue, tipping her with his teeth. When he lay his palm over her chest, chills flashed down her spin.

"Asha," He said, his voice soft against her shoulder. "How composed you appear. But the swiftness of your heartbeat betrays you."

Her skin tingled with heightened sensitivity. Awareness of him penetrated to her innermost depths, intensifying the secret pulse between her legs. Softly, she whispered. "What are you doing to me?"

He rubbed his cheek against her hair, and she sensed his smile. "I thought I'd lost you. I'd thought you would die. I want to remind myself that you're alive. That you're here. That you're mine."

Before she could feel more than a twinge of embarrassment, he turned her to him and kissed her.

His lips moved with gentle pressure at first, his hands cradling her head, his thumbs stroking her temples. Thier tounges met in a leisurely kiss, a kiss that was almost sweet as if he controlled the wildness inside himself. He tasted of honeyed wine and darkness, secrets she could not fathom. Placing her hands on the sweeping breadth of his shoulders, she succumbed to temptation and leaned against him, liking the pressure of her breasts against his hard chest.

Muttering something unintelligible, he caught her closer, his arms flexing around her. His hand sought her breast with a warmth that penetrated the chill that had swept across her skin. This time, she couldn't stop a quiver of longing. Thier mouths melded with increasing urgency, the thrust of his tongue growing more demanding and hungry. He slid his hand down her ribs and then back up to cup the heavy globe of her breast. When his thumb brushed across the tip, she whimpered, unprepared for the rush of intense pleasure that radiated throughout her body. She raised herself on tiptoe, straining against him, waiting to be closer and frustrated by the limitations of the flesh.

He groaned deep in his chest, and his mouth crushed hers with a need so fierce she could scarcely draw a breath. Her senses swam with giddiness, and she moved her hands over his form, unable to stop herself from touching the contours of his chest, his arms, his steely muscles. He was stunningly hewn, utterly male. With a wild willingness that faintly appalled her, she welcomed his caresses, leaning back a little to let him fully take her naked breast in his palm.

Appreciation burned in his gaze as he looked down at her. "You are exquisite." He muttered hoarsely. Then, to her shock and delight, he bent his head and suckled her.

His mouth was hot and his short beard scratched her sensitive skin softly. An insidious softness weakened her limbs and strengthened her desire. Unable to silence her gasps of pleasure, she could only hold fast to Kili.

He lifted her into the air then, and his hands over her bare thighs and bottom. Too enraptured to protest, she hid her face in the musky hollow of his shoulder, while he brought his hand between them and touched the bare, smooth skin between her legs. In some distant part of her, Asha knew she should be mortified by his unthinkable liberty. But as he stroked her with expert fingers, a maddening pleasure leaped in her, a passion that made her twist and arch against him. Need built and coiled in her until she thought she might die from it.

"Kili . . . what are you . . . please . . . I can't bare it . . ." Her voice was a needy whine, thin and reedy, and oh so husky.

Then she felt the sharpness of loss when he did stop, walking her backward until her legs met the edge of the rough rock ledge. As he sat her down, she clung to him, her insides still knotted from his caresses. He removed her hands from around her neck, and as he stepped back, dismay flashed through her.

"Is that all?" She asked, breathlessly. "Are you leaving me?"

Kili's teeth showed in a grimace of a smile as his gaze scorched her. I am far from done, mi'lady." He growled, unfastening his breeches.

Asha's mouth went dry. She knew she oughtn't to stare as he stepped out of his breeches, but she couldn't look away from her first view of Kili before her. The sheer size of him awed her, even as she felt a frisson of alarm.

He caught her chin in his hand and tilted her face up for a tender, compelling kiss. "Say that you want this." He whispered against her mouth. "Say that you want me."

"I want you." She said in a weakening rush of feeling. "Oh, Kili, I want you."

His breath hissed out between his teeth. He tugged lightly at her hair, and a mindless sensuality swept over Asha. She slid into the ledge, the rock cool against her fevered skin.

He pressed her back into the rock and come down on top of her, letting her feel the power of a man's body. She knew the shock of flesh on flesh, and then he kissed her against with a violence that surpassed her imagination. All the while, he stroked her intimately, fondling her in ways that made her twist and moan, pushing her against to the edge of a precipice.

He parted her legs with his knees, caught her hips, and held her still. Through the cloud of ardor, she felt a probing invasion, too hot and thick to be a finger. She knew his intent, then, and she gloried in it. Bracing her feet against the mattress, she arched to receive him. A feral groan broke from his throat and in one swift thrust, he breached her last defense.

A brief stab of pain melted into an amazing sense of fullness. He held himself on his forearms, his chest sheened with sweat in the torchlight. His eyes glittered against the harsh handsomeness of his face.

"You're mine." He growled. "Mine alone."

"If I am yours, then you are mine as well."

The fierce vow escaped her without forethought. They stared at each other, both of them panting. Something flashed in his eyes, a starkness she could read. She didn't understand herself, either; she knew only that a bond had been forged between them, a link that connected them by more than the flesh. If she belonged to him, then he also belonged to her. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

Stretching up her hand, she caressed his cheek, and his expression darkened with passion. He turned his head and kissed her palm; then he began to move. She closed her eyes to savor the incredible intimacy, the unimaginable pleasure. The heat inside her flared into a frantic, mindless urgency, and she cleaved to him, writhing, reaching for something she could not name. She cried out and he did, too, at the moment before she plunged, breathless into great waves of ecstasy. An impossible rapture rolled through her, and she sensed him there with her as if they were one being, one heart, one soul.

The flash of heaven faded, leaving her limp and replete. For a long while, they lay entwined as their breathing slowed and their bodies cooled. She dozed in the sweetest peace she had ever known. His arm rested on her bare middle, and his fingers curled against the side of her breast. The weight of him was heavy, yet infinitely comfortable. She wanted to lie with him forever . . .

She must have drowsed, for the next thing she knew, he was leaning over the ledge, sliding his arms beneath her pliant form. She squirmed in protest, loath to leave her warm nest, but he merely chuckled and swung her up into his arms.

As she wreathed her arms around his neck, she blushed, remembering all that they had done together, all the ways he had touched her. Like a slave to passion, she had lost control, moaning and twisting beneath him, her dignity abandoned in the heedless need to couple with him, to appease the hunger of the flesh.

"Don't." He growled.

Tilting her head against his collarbone, she regarded him warily. "Don't what?"

"Don't be ashamed. You are beautiful, and what we did, it was beautiful as well." Pressing his lips against her temple, he smiled softly. "Don't regret it."

"Never." Asha smiled.

He bore her down the steps and settled her on the shelf of the carved tub below the waterline. Little waves lapped at the undersides of her breasts. Heat enveloped her, relaxing her muscles and soothing the slight ache where he had made them one. Unashamedly naked, Kili dove head first below the surface and emerged at her feet like a god of water. Droplets rolled down his magnificently muscled chest, over his taut midsection, to vanish in the pool, where the surface of the water blurred the most intriguing portion of his anatomy.

Feeling flushed from more than just the bath, she looked up to see a cocksure smile on his face He knew the effects he had on her, the wench. But she smiled, beset by a wave of utter happiness.

He combed his fingers through her wet hair, the slick strands gleaming brightly in the torchlight. With a glint in his eyes, he picked up the cake of soap and lathered his hands. Slowly he massaged her breasts, sliding over slick skin, his thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks until her breasts felt heavy and aching. As longing swelled in her, she braced her palms on the marble seat to keep herself from melting into the tub.

His hands moved lower, washing her belly and thighs with scrupulous care. "You're so soft and delicate." He mused. "And your back is still healing. I must have hurt you."

"No, I'm fine." She assured him. "Truly, I am."

He raised an eyebrow. "Asha, I took you like a savage. I'll be gentler next time. Now lie back and relax."

A droplet of water trickled down his chiseled face. On impulse, she leaned forward and caught it with her tongue.

He tasted faintly of salt, and she breathed in his damp, exhilarating scent. "I liked how you took me." She said. "I wouldn't change a moment of it."

His eyes gleamed a dark mysterious blue against his bronzed skin. "Asha."

Then he moved his hand exactly where she wanted it, his gaze holding hers while he aroused her. Soft sounds of enjoyment rose from her throat. She revealed in the lazy stroking of his fingers, the slow rise of tension, the warm lapping of water against her breasts. She hadn't known herself to be a creature of sensuality, or that a woman should feel such delight. In a fever of impatience, she brought her leg over so that it hooked around Kili's waist and brought him forward so that he sat on the ledge under the water. She followed his movement and straddled him, her breasts moist against his chest, her aching center meeting his hardness.

Groaning out her name, he caught her hips and in a wild upward surge entered her. Water sloshed around them. Their lips met in an urgent kiss, their bodies straining, reaching the pinnacle of pleasure.

When it was over, she lay spend and weak in his arms. His mouth drifted along her brow, leaving a trail of languid kisses. After a few long moments, he lifted her from the pool, holding her upright while he wrapped her in a soft towel. He bent his head to her hair and breathed deeply. "You've driven me half mad with wanting." He said in a rough undertone. "I can't get enough of you, but we should rejoin the Company. They'll be wondering where we are."

"Yes." She agreed, her voice husky and tight.

Kili paused for a moment, his hands finding her hair. "I'll braid your hair once it's dried. I want them to know that you belong to me. That you'll always belong to me."

Asha smiled. "Only if I may braid your's as well."

"Every day." Kili smiled, pulling her close for a heated kiss. "I'll never let you go."

"Promise?" Asha whispered, pressing her forehead against his shoulder.

"I promise."


	36. Chapter Thirty Five - The Desolation of Family

With a blush high on her cheeks, Asha followed Kili as he led the way to Beorn's main living area. "Don't tell me you're not hungry." He said. "I'm not a mind reader, but your stomach is growling loud enough for the Orcs to find us."

She grinned at the floor but said nothing. Instead, she allowed him to lead her to the large table, where a fare of food was spread out.

"So here you are, little wolf!" Beorn said. He picked up the small changling and laughed: poking her stomach playfully. "You've lost to much weight in your time of sickness. I will make you fat again on bread and honey." He chuckled. "Come, have some more!"

It was a good thing the food was exactly the same as it had been the night before because if, miraculously, a rack of deer or a thick, hearty stew had materialized, she wouldn't have been able to stomach it.

The honey was just as sweet, the bread just as dense, but she was grateful for it. There was also a pastry filled with sugar and honey and berries, and Asha's too scrawny shoulders hunched as she wolfed down the sweet tasting treat. At the hearth, Ori sliced onions into a stewpot.

Kili smiled as he pressed a mug of peppermint tea into her hands.

She took a long drink. "Thanks." She said thickly, her stomach aching comfortably. A ray of sunlight filtered through the high window and cast a halo on her golden white hair. With a quick hand, Kili brushed the strands from her face and behind her ear. His fingers began to comb through her hair and Asha sighed, leaning her head to the side, her eyes fluttering shut. The others watched as Kili began to braid her hair, their expressions ranging from amazement to worry to smug understanding.

She couldn't help but wonder how long they would be staying there.

The answer was exactly four days.

The day after Kili braided her hair - a simple braid that pulled the hair from behind her ear down onto her chest so that the tail pointed towards her waist - she spent with Beorn; she explored the forest surrounding his homestead, following the bear wherever he might lead her, her wolf relishing in the freedom of the change.

That evening she ate bread and honey again, and nearly two baskets filled with strawberries, which the Dwarves had found at the edge of the trees growing thickly. Kili chattered about his day spent with his Uncle sparring, bragging a little about the trouble he had managed to get into by tieing Thorin's hair in a knot with Fili's and complaining about the chores he'd been given as punishment. Asha chastised him halfheartedly, a small smile spreading across her face as she took note of Thorin's smile as he watched his nephew interact with the others. They all did a very good job of acting normally, even though Thorin glowered at the small female more often than not. Asha had no acting ability. When Kili asked her about her day, the best she could do was stare intently at her food and mumble one-worded answers. Her reaction seemed to upset him, but he didn't push her.

At night, however, it was a different story - he wouldn't let her stop talking until she begged to be allowed to sleep. The Company had all claimed empty stalls, and Kili was no exception. He took one side of plush hay and insisted that Asha take the other.

The third day found Asha working near the fire. She was kneading coarse bread dough and laying it out in round lumps to let it rise.

It was nearly afternoon when Thorin walked in.

"I'm going to get more flour," Kili muttered, laying with the strap that held his quiver to his back.

"I'll come with you," Asha said immediately, wanting to avoid any and all confrontations with the Dwarven King. Her wolf rested so close to the surface that she feared, if provoked, she would shift without warning. She was up to her elbows in the sticky dough, but she started to scrape it off so she could leave as quickly as possible.

Thorin, sighed, flashed a look at the unobserving Dwarves scattered throughout the living area, and shook his head. Then he moved forward and sank his hands into the rough dough as well.

Kili smiled and spun around, dashing out of the room before she could free herself.

Asha froze there, no longer breathing. She stared at the Dwarven King waiting for him to speak.

But Thorin kept on kneading and shaping, not seeming to realize Asha's panic. After a long, breathless moment, she started kneading again.

"Do you love him?"

Asha startled from the sudden question. "What?"

Thorin sighed. "Do you love him?"

Her legs locked like a startled colt's, her entire body tottering to a halt. Her mind raced as she went over all the words she would use to describe her feelings for the Dwarf. She thought of him as a companion, a lover, a safeguard against the terror of her travels, her best friend. But did she love him? Memories came to her: the time spent in her cabin so near the lake, the Shire, and then the forest the Trolls had called home. Rivendale and Goblin Town and now Beorn's home. Months and months had passed since they had first met, at least seven by her count, and when she spoke her voice went higher, like a bird's, with anxiety. She could feel a warm flush pinking her cheeks. "I think . . ." Asha whispered. "I know that I do."

Thorin nodded. "Then you will stay. I may not understand what you are, or your ability's, but I will not allow mine, or anyone else's fear, to keep you from my nephew, when he so clearly loves you."

"I will stay." Asha agreed.

Asha realized the nothing had happened. There was no sudden silence. No one paused to stare at the two. No one seemed to have noticed anything at all. Thorin continued to knead dough at Asha's side, and Bofur, as loud as ever, was turned to Bifur, the two deep in a conversation that only they could understand.

Kili had returned with the much-needed flour, and he sat next to his brother, their shoulders touching, their voices low as they conspired together.

Ori was sitting at the over-sized table, knitting what appeared to be a scarf, and as for the other Dwarves, Asha couldn't be quite sure as to their location.

But she realized one thing: The novelty of her strange abilities had apparently worn off. They, after all, had been allowed several weeks to get used to the idea of Asha turning into an oversized wolf, while she, for her part, had slept away her wounds and sickness.

Asha took a deep breath, gathering her bravery. "Thorin?"

"Yes?" He sounded surprised that she'd addressed him so soon.

"Why haven't you killed me yet? Or at least banished me from the Company?"

He snorted. "That's rather direct."

"You could, you know. Kili might be upset, but I don't think that he would hate you." Asha couldn't seem to be able to stop herself. It sounded as if she were trying to convince him. She bit her tongue.

"I don't think so." He said, his tone contented.

It was quiet for a moment, just the sounds of their hands working the dough echoing, low and muffled, from the cabin walls.

"It doesn't seem right," Thorin said finally. "I've thought it over many times, and I've not seen a reason to kill you or a way that killing you would make anything right. And Bofur was right: The foolish boy does love you. I think that he might have found his One in you and to kill you seems . . . cruel."

Asha pondered over his words and found that it was strange that Thorin would find cruelty something to be thought of negatively. He had never been cruel to her, so to speak, but he had the air about him of a man who held little reservations to spilling blood for the right cause.

He waited in silence while she considered his words.

"What does that mean? That Kili's found his 'one'?" She asked.

He paused again before answering. "The One is . . ." He hesitated. "I believe that it is something you should ask Kili, given the chance."

Asha nodded and glanced toward the before mentioned Dwarf, who looked up with a bright smile and slight wave.

Whatever it was, she mused, she hoped that Thorin was right because she didn't know if she could live without Kili.

~~~

"That is all the advice I can give you. Beyond the edge of the forest, I cannot help you; you must depend on your luck and your courage and the food I send with you. I must ask you to send back my horses and my ponies at the gate of the forest. But I wish you all speed, and my house is open to you if ever you come back this way again."

Beorn's speak was meet with a fierce hug from the small changling, her head not coming up higher than his waist. "Thank you, for everything that you've done for us."

Beorn smiled and ran a hand lightly over her hair. "You are very welcome, little wolf, and should you ever need my help, send a raven. I will come."

All that morning they had been busy with preparations. Soon after midday, they ate with Beorn for the last time, and after the meal the mounted the steeds he was lending them and bidding their host many farewells. The Company exited his gate at a good pace, the ponies moving as quickly as any horse, and the few horses as quickly as the wind.

As soon as they left his high hedges to the east of his fenced lands, they turned north and then bore northwest.

And so, with a great many curses and words to the loss of a roof over their head and warm water to bath in, the Company began to their quest once again.


	37. Chapter Thirty Six - The Desolation of Travel

By Beorn's advice, the Company was no longer making for the main forest road to the South of his land. Had they followed the pass, their path would have led them to a stream that ran from the mountains and joined the great river miles South of the Carrock. At that point, there was a deep ford which they might have passed, and beyond that, a track led to the skirts of the wood and to the entrance of the old forest road.

Beorn, however, had warned them that the way was now often used by the goblins, while the forest road itself, he had heard, was overgrown and disused at the Eastern end and led to impassable marshes where the paths had long been lost. Its' Eastern opening had also always been too far south of the Lonely Mountain and would have left them with a long and difficult Northward march when they got to the other side. North of the Carrock the edge of the Mirkwood drew closer to the borders of the Great River, and though here the Mountains too drew don nearer, Beorn advised them to take this way; for at a place a few days' ride due north of the Carrock was the gate of a little-known pathway through Mirkwood that led almost straight towards the Lonely Mountain.

"The Orcs," Beorn had said, "will not dare to cross the river for a hundred leagues North of the Carrock, nor will they come near my home, but I would ride fast if I were you. Should they make their raid soon they will cross the river to the south and scour all the edges of the forest as to cut you off, and Wargs run swifter than ponies. Even my ponies." He added, seemingly as an afterthought.

Asha had been sad to see the Skin-Changer receded into the distance, and she had stayed with her back turned to the Company, her eyes trained on her newly-found friend until he was no more than a place smudge in the distance. She might not have known Beorn well, but he was a brother, just as surely as she was a sister, one of the last of the kind, with hearts as heavy as the stone beneath a mountain or the trees beneath the sky.

They rode quickly, as they had been told to do, galloping where the ground was grassy and smooth, with the mountains dark on their left, and in the distance the line of the river with its trees drawing ever closer. The sun had only just turned west when they started, and till evening it lay golden on the land about them. It was difficult to speak with the thought of pursuing Orcs behind, and it wasn't until they had put many leagues between them and Beorn's home did they begin to talk again.

"How is your back?" Kili asked softly, his voice was warm as whiskey. Asha was seated behind him atop the pale spotted pony Beorn had lent them and her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist. His hair tickled her nose, causing her to sneeze, and when he shifted to move it away she sneezed again.

"As well as can be expected," Asha replied breathlessly. "The skin may be healed, but my back aches like I've been trampled by our pony."

Kili hummed and leaned forward, allowing the Changling to disperse her weight onto his back. Asha sighed and buried her face into his hair, which smelled faintly of honey and hey and that scent that as all Kili - musky and as warm as the sun on her face.

"Why Changling?" Kili wondered out loud many leagues later.

Asha started, her eyes fluttering open. "Hmm?"

"Gandalf called Beorn a Skin-Changer, didn't he?" Kili mused. "But you've referred to yourself as a Changling several times. Why is that? It would seem you are both one in the same kind."

Asha shrugged, then shook her head when she realized he would not be able to see her shoulders move. "The Bears have always gone by Skin-Changer. I do not know why. My people took the term Changling. I know once, long ago, there were many of us, the ones that could change their shape. We were great cats or wolves or bears. I've even heard tales of those who could grow fins and gills and live beneath the water like fish. They died a long time ago, though."

Kili nodded and fell silent, his mind surely working over her words.

The leagues passed slowly then and Asha, annoyed by the silence that permeated the air, began to sing.

"Whether near or far  
I am always yours  
Any change in time  
We are young again,

Lay us down  
We're in love,

Lay us down  
We're in love,

Aaahhh  
Aaahhh  
Aaahhh  
Aaahhh

In these coming years  
Many things will change  
But the way I feel  
Will remain the same,

Lay us down  
Lay us down,

Aaahhh  
Aaahhh  
Aaahhh  
Aaahhh

We're in love."

Though she could not see his face, Kili smiled, his eyes bright with longing.

"Asha?" Ori called, his voice bright.

Turning to the side, Asha opened her mouth to reply, only to have it snap shut in an instant when she spotted the pale instrument in his hands.

"My lute!" Asha exclaimed, her hands instantly reaching out to take the instrument into her arms. "Oh, Ori, how did you save this?"

"When the ponies moved to run away, I took it and stuffed it down the back of my sweater," Ori admitted sheepishly. "I meant to give it to you sooner, but there was so much happening, so many challenges, it must have slipped my mind. I'm afraid I might have cracked the side at some point, though. When we fell into Goblin Town, I think. I'm sorry."

"Ori, thank you. Thank you so much." Asha nearly fell from her position on the pony as she leaned forward, her arms wrapping around the younger Dwarf's neck in thanks.

That evening when the dusk came on and the peaks of the mountains glowed against the sunset they made a camp and set a guard. Most of the Company slept uneasily with dreams of Goblins and Orcs and howling Wargs. Asha slept little, her form once again that of a large pale wolf, her brilliant eyes watching the plains around her friends carefully.

Still, the next morning dawned bright and fair again. There was an autumn-like mist white upon the ground and the air was chilled, but soon the sun rose red in the East and the mists vanished, and while the shadows were still long they were off again. They rode like such for two more days, and all the while they saw nothing save grass and flowers and birds and scattered trees, and occasionally small herds of red deer browsing or sitting at noon in the shade. Sometimes Bilbo would claim to see the horns of the harts sticking up out of the long grass, and at first, he thought they were the dead branches of trees.

The third evening they were so eager to press on, for Beorn had said that they should reach the forest gate early on the fourth day, that they rode forward well past dusk and into the night beneath the moon. As the light faded Bilbo mentioned the shadowy form of a great bear prowling along in the same direction. Asha couldn't help but laugh at his worried tone, for she knew that Beorn had changed skins long ago and had been following after since.

"Why do you think we've had such luck traveling? Not a single Orc or Goblin or any other nasty creature to sneak up on us in the night? Who do you think has been keeping them all away?"

Bilbo had blushed brightly at her speech, clearly shamed face for not realizing they had a protector sooner.

The next morning they started before dawn, though their night had been short. As soon as it was light they could see the forest coming as if it were hoping to meet them, or waiting for them like a black and frowning wall before them. The land began to slope up and up, and it seemed to the Company that a silence began to draw in upon them. Birds began to sing less. There were no more deer; not even rabbits were to be seen. By the afternoon they had reached the eaves of the forest and were resting almost beneath the great overhanging boughs of its outer trees. Their trunks were huge and gnarled, their branches twisted, their leaves were dark and long. Ivy grew on them and trailed along the ground.

Asha frowned at the forest, her mind racing. She'd been through the Greenwood years ago, just after Belladonna had passed into the afterlife, and it had looked very, very different. Greenwood had once been an absurdly beautiful forest that had filtered the sunlight down in a green haze. The forest before her, however, seemed to have been designed to inspire fear. The light was dim and there was a strange, molding smell that Asha wrinkled her nose too.

She knew, or at least thought, that a forest as old and massive as the one standing before her should not have changed so quickly.

Gandalf was the first to dismount when they reached the forest's edge, and the others were reluctant to follow suit when confronted with the sight of the dark trees. "The Elven Gate," Gandalf called back to them. "Here lies our path through."

Asha swallowed nervously as she stared into the trees.

They had arrived, not to Greenwood, but to a collection of trees that could only be described as Mirkwood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs: 
> 
> The End of All Things (Audio) - Panic! At The Disco


	38. Chapter Thirty Seven - The Desolation of Mirkwood

"No acursed Orcs following after it seems," Dwalin commented as he swung down from his pony. "It would seem that luck is on our side."

"Dwalin," Asha called, her back throbbing as she slid to the ground in one easy movement. "Hasn't anyone ever told you to never claim that luck is on your side?"

"Set the ponies loose," Gandalf ordered his eyes at some point far, far away. "Let them return to their master."

Asha followed his gaze and spotted Beorn outlined against the overcast sky where he stood upon a bluff, his short hair rippling in the wind. The large bear lifted his snout to the wind.

The Dwarves were inclined to grumble at Gandalf's words, but the Wizard scoffed at them as if they were nothing more than fools.

Asha ignored the group's words as she gingerly stretched to loosen the muscles along her back. She had only just bent down, hoping to relieve a strained muscle in her lower back when Gandalf strode out of the trees, crying out. "Not my horse. I need it!"

Nori paused in the act of loosening the saddle, his wildly red hair falling from its normally star-shaped style.

"You can't be serious." Bilbo protested. "You're not leaving us."

"I would not do this unless I had to." The Wizard replied, and Asha felt her stomach drop.

A diseased, by all accounts dangerous forest, and no Wizard bodied ill will, causing a shiver of fear to crawl up her spine.

~~~

They walked in single file. The entrance to the path was a great stone arch that stretched into a gloomy tunnel made by two great trees that leaned together, too old and too strangled with ivy and hung with lichen to bear more than a few blackened leaves.

Large, strange insects slithered across the pathways like forbearers of ill will. There were strange black squirrels in the trees, and Asha found her wolf straining against her second skin to chase after the small rodents. The woods all around them creaked and moaned in the wind. The path was hard to follow, cloaked in a slimy layer of molding leaves. The Dwarves tapped and stomped on the stone pavers as they went, to assure themselves that the path was still underfoot. Gandalf had given them a dire warning - do not leave the path. For if they did, they would never find their way back to civilization.

Asha couldn't be sure how many days they spent in the forest in the beginning, but it was not long before they grew to hate the forest as heartily as they had hated Goblin Town. But they all continued on, long after they were sick of the sight of the sun and sky, long after they forgot what it felt to have the wind on their faces. There was no movement of air down under the forest roof, and it was everlasting still and dark and stuffy. Asha and Bilbo were affected the worst by such, as the Dwarves were used to tunnels and living for long times without the light of the sun; but the two who were not felt as if they were slowly suffocating.

The nights were worse, and Asha often suffered from terrors during her time spent in the forest, her cries and pleads waking the others well before the sun rose.

They were hungry all, and Bilbo most of all, for they were careful with their provisions. Even so, as the days past, and still the forest remained just the same all around then, they began to grow anxious. They knew that the food would not last forever, and as fact would have it, it was already beginning to run low in some packs. Kili tried shooting the squirrels, and he wasted many arrows before he managed to bring one down on the path. But when they roasted it, it proved horrible to taste, and he quickly learned not to shoot another.

Asha lost track of the days quickly, the night and days blending together as smoothly as silk - after all, it was always dark, so what was the point of knowing the sun that she could not see was hanging high in the sky?

And then they happened upon the bridge. A river way was flowing fast and strong but it was not very wide, nor did it seem very deep. It was black, though, and the Dwarves were wary of the strange color. The bridge of wood had become rotten with age, leaving only the broken posts near the bank.

There was no way across, but to follow the looping, twisting branches that crossed over the river, and Asha cried out as she watched Bombur fall into the water.

She could not remember how she, herself, had reached the other side, and she wondered at that for a moment, before she noticed the flying sound of hooves on the path ahead. Out of the gloom came suddenly the shape of a flying deer. It charged into the Dwarves and bowled them over then gathered itself for a leap. High it sprang and cleared the water with a mighty jump.

Kili rose his bow and fitted an arrow, but before he could release the string, Asha stumbled forward and knocked the shot askew, her heart leaping into her mouth. "Bad luck, to shoot a white hart." She croaked as a way of explanation when he turned narrowed eyes at her.

Asha could not remember how they brought Bombur to the pathway, nor how she came to be the one to bare his burden as a wolf, her spine bowing slightly under the weight of the great Dwarf.

"Is there no end to this accursed forest?" Thorin burst out at some point.  
  
And then it was Bilbo who, finally, climbed a tree to seek out the sun, and Bilbo who was forced to face the Great Spiders of Mirkwood alone.  
  
Asha couldn't remember Bomber waking up, couldn't remember him climbing off her back, couldn't remember the Spiders coming and attacking the Company, couldn't remember Bilbo freeing them. She did remember, however, the impact her body made with the earth. She was human, once again, and naked as the day she was born. She was already half ripped from her cocoon, her canine teeth elongated into fangs as the Spiders came screaming down on top of them.

The Company was screaming as well, blood laced with sedative and terror, even as they rushed to fumble for their weapons. Asha couldn't remember how they represent the Spiders in their panicked, half drugged attack, but she knew that they were able to wield their weapons only from muscle memory, and, for a few of them, not even that. Sheer survival drove them forward to protect themselves, and Asha was thankful for that.

Asha cast a glance through the trees, searching for her friends - Bombur, Bofur, Bifur, all huddled together against the Spiders, Ori, and Nori off to the side, Dori near Bombur and Bifur. Gloin, Fili, and Thorin all screaming in since. Oin and Dwalin, Balin and . . . Kili was separated from all the rest, but Asha could see him from the corner of her eye, fighting well in the undergrowth. But where was Bilbo?

And, suddenly, she was noticing strange, unfamiliar faces in the trees while she searched for the Hobbit. Elven faces, white blonde hair, their pale, pale hands drawing back bowstrings, their knuckles pressing into their delicate, high cheeks and they all glared down at the Company.

"Do not think that I won't kill you, Dwarf." A male Elf warned Thorin, who was forced to stare up the arrow sighted at his skull. "It would be my pleasure."

Asha growled, her form all but vibrating as she glared at the Elf. They were outnumbered, with at least a dozen Elves to each Dwarf, and she knew that they each had an arrow locked onto a Dwarven target.

A shout sounded out from the shadows and Asha spun on her heels, her hair ghosting around her naked frame. Kili's frame caught her attention just as he fell, and then she noticed the Spider bearing down on him, it's pincers clacking as it's prey thrashed.  
  
She was at his side before the Elves could react, her body exploding outward into that of her wolf, her fur matted in the strange, colorless blood of the Spiders. The Spider screamed as she born down on it, her teeth ripping through its body without remorse. Spinnerets, joints, the narrow joining between body segments, eyes and, of course, the notch under the mandibles. Kili was at her side, his hands in her fur before the Spider had fallen, screaming, as it pitched to the side, going into its death throes.

The male Elf that seemed to be in charge eyed Asha with wide eyes, his gaze traveling over her wolf body, even as the other Elves swung their arrows toward her heart. Asha bristled under the obvious threat, her hackles rising, and she urged Kili onto her back, his hands gripping her fur tightly to bring his legs over her spine. Asha growled loudly at the Elves who moved forward to bring him down from her back, and they quickly backed away when they realized that she would not release her companion without bloodshed. Fili and Ori ran to her side quickly, Ori scrambling up Asha's back as well, while Fili stayed near her forefeet, his left hand buried deep into her chest fur. He could feel her body vibrating from her growls.

An order was given in Sindarin for them to be searched, the Dwarves protesting angerly as they were drawn from their groups. Ori and Kili were drawn from her back, and Asha nearly attacked before she realized they were being kept close to her sides, and the moment they had been finished, they were allowed back up her side. Obviously, Asha had no need to be searched, as her wolf could hide very little.

And then the order was given for them to move from the forest, and the Company was forced to march forward in a single fashion line, their glares softening only when their eyes fell on the Changling protecting the youngest of the group, her friends, and her lover.

Asha, at that moment, became a warrior in their eyes.

 


	39. Chapter Thirty Eight - The Desolation of Mirkwood's Dungeons

Asha studied her surroundings carefully as they entered the Elvish Kingdom. It was enchanting, and it gave the impression of being both inside and out. Flowing walkways that twisted and crossed echoing paths. They were not like the Goblin pathways; they were smaller, less deep underground, and filled with cleaner air. In a great hall with pillars hewn from living stone sat the Elvenking on a chair carved from wood.

He was tall, taller than any elf she had ever seen, with milky pale skin that fell to his waist. He was beautiful, in the traditional sense that all Elves were beautiful, but Asha found that he held no attraction for her. The King had cold eyes, eyes that seemed to be made from ice, no matter how beautiful he was of form and face. Asha preferred the warm eyes and kind smiles of her Dwarf. She braced herself, knowing that the Elven King would not be kind in his words, but she was shocked to find that they did not even pause before his throne.

Instead, they were ushered deeper into the earth and pushed into large, nearly homely cells. Her heart nearly beat from her chest when she realized that both Kili and Ori were being dragged from her back and pushed roughly in single cells, but she could do little as a third Elf all but shoved her into a cell of her own.

Her body began to shudder as the pain set in, her back a ripping red sheet of pain that spoke of damaged muscles and torn skin, once again, and she winced, her body feeling as though it would splinter into a thousand pieces as she shifted to her human form. Asha's bones felt as though they were made from glass. There was a sharp, excruciating pain in Asha's back. "Gods," She said breathlessly as the agony continued to intensify. Red spots of impending unconsciousness bloomed before her eyes.

She reached over her shoulders, clawing wildly at her back. Her fingers touched the tender skin where her back had all but been flayed, and the skin pulsed with every frantic beat of her heart. An explosion of sound left Asha's mouth and she screamed hoarsely in a melange of pain and relief as the pain eclipsed anything she had ever known, and then calmed.

Though she did not know it, the Dwarves who could see into her cell, where gaping at her in disbelief. She was, again, naked, but they had grown used to this over the past weeks, seeing her shift between her human form and the wolf had forced them to accept that they would see much more of their skin than they were comfortable with. No, what shocked them was her appearance, which seemed to be shifting before their very eyes. Her skin held the same dusty appearance that it always had just before or just after a shift, but this time it seemed to be imprinting itself into her skin, a permanent tattoo, a reminder of her shifts. Her hair was shifting between the light, golden color of her human form and the richer, milky color of her wolf, and her eyes, which had always seemed liquid, were as hard as any gem they knew, all but glowing in the dim light of the cell she resided in. Her teeth seemed too large for her mouth, too sharp, and her lips pulled back away from them in a terrifying snarl.

She turned, then, and they saw her back. The scars that crisscrossed her back in a sickening reminder of her trial in the Goblin City seemed to be glowing, they faded to such a pale ivory. A high wail left her lips once again, and she slumped forward and into the floor, her body curling into a protective circle, and just like that, it was over.

The dusk seemed to leave her skin, her eyes faded back to their normal liquid color, and Asha's teeth seemed to retract back into her skull, settling++  
into a much more pleasing row of straight, white bone.

"Lass? Lass, are ye alright?" Dwalin called one of the few who had viewed the unsettling transformation. He watched as her shoulders shook for a moment and then she was turning, rolling on her side, her skin pale and her eyes filled with hurt. She winced as she noticed the sounds of Dwarves meeting iron rising through the dungeons, their grunts and shouts sounding out till Balin had enough.

"Leave it! There's no way out! This is no Orc Dungeon. There are the halls of the Woodland Realm. No one leaves here without the King's consent."

There were several moments of glum silence, and Asha choice to speak in the quiet that followed Balin's words.

"My wolf is in pain. She's grown weak and fights to break free, despite her weakness. If this continues, I may lose her."

Dwalin seemed astonished for a moment. "Lose her? What do ye mean, lass?"

Asha smiled ruefully. "It means that I would never be able to shift again. That I would be, more or less, human, for the rest of my days. It happened to my grandfather. I saw it happen to my father. Perhaps it is a curse that runs in our family. But we all seem to lose our second skin at some point in our life."

The Dwarves fell silent after that revelation, and Asha pulled herself into a sitting position close to the bars of the cell. She tipped her head back, even as she curled into a semi-circle once again, her pale hair spreading across the floor like a sheet of molten sunlight.

"Will you really lose the ability to become a wolf?" Kili asked suddenly, causing her to realize that he had been forced into the cell directly next to hers.

"Perhaps," Asha admitted slowly, moving closer to the door so that she could hear him better over the soft chattering of the others. "She may grow stronger, and yet survive, though."

Kili grew silent then, but she felt his hand brushing against hers after a moment, and she realized that he had threaded his arm through the bars of his cell and into hers. Nuzzling her face into the skin of his palm, she fell into a fitful sleep.

  
The Elves came for Asha last, leaving her in the hopes that she would awaken on her own. She didn't, however, and finally, the palest of the troops were forced to enter the cell and shake the Changling into consciousness. She nearly shifted at the unexpected touch, but, instead, she startled out of the cell, her blonde hair flowing behind her like a waterfall as she sprinted forward. They caught her easily, but the Dwarves cheered at her attempted escape, Kili loudest of all. She noticed that even Thorin smiled at her as she was led past his cell, his voice ringing out in laughter as she smiled ruefully at the Elves holding her shoulders.

The Elven King, Thranduil, was waiting with his back turned, hands clasped neatly behind him. On his head was a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again. She knew that in the spring he wore a crown of woodland flowers and branches. In his hand, he held a carven staff of oak.

He turned slowly, revealing icy blue eyes that studied her closely. The King took note of her slim, compact build and the slight muscles the held her together. She had a steady gaze, despite her nudity, and she stood before him with flushed cheeks and wide pupils that spoke of pain and fear, despite her outward calm. Her hair fell in light waves past her waist, and he wondered at the length. It was rare for a woman to allow her hair to grow so long while traveling, but she used the golden strands to cover her body where she could, and the shadows to hide what the hair wasn't able.

"What is your name, little one?" The King asked.

"Asha Brystowe diSorvina." Asha turned from his gaze and allowed her eyes to follow the line of the walkways that spiraled away from the Elven Kings throne.

His gaze became cold. "Planning an escape?"

"No," Asha answered truthfully. "I only ran in the dungeons because the blonde Elf startled me. I know that I won't get far, and I would never leave my friends behind."

"How old are you?"

Asha startled slightly, her eyes narrowing in thought. She shouldn't have been surprised. With her height and her slight build, she knew that she would appear to be no more than a child to the Elf before her. She possessed a youthful face as well, which made her appear much younger than she truly was. "Fifty. Or fifty-one. My name day may have passed in the last moon cycle, but I have no true way to be sure."

Thranduil's eyes flashed for a moment, in shock or surprise, who wasn't sure, but Asha ignored it. "And how did you come to find yourself in the company of so many Dwarves."

Asha hesitated for a moment, before shaking her head slowly. "They're my friends. I'm following them to their homes among the Dwarves in the Iron Hills."

She shifted slowly, her back rippling with pain. Her fingers twitched over her shoulders, pressing into the nerves along her neck and spine. The Elven King followed her movements closely, his eyes narrowing as he noticed the blood that stained her fingertips.

The two Elves spoke softly in Sindarin, their eyes darting from one another to the Changling that stood before them, and, after a long moment, the King sighed. "Take her to the healers. It would do us little good to have the last of her kind die under our care."

Asha frowned, but she followed after the young, blond Elf dutifully. Her footsteps were light as she padded after his lithe form, her back flaring with pain with every footstep. They were silent as they continued forward, and Asha couldn't help but study the halls they moved deeper into the caves.

"There is a healer with the Company. Take me to him." Asha said, her fingers brushing against the Elf's arm.

The Elf sighed. "A Dwarf?"

"Yes. He's helped to take care of me since I suffered the welcomeing of the mountain Goblins." Asha stated fiercely, her eyes flashing dangerously as the Elf merely scoffed. "He saved my life."

"Anyone with half a heart could save your life. But you are young, too young to know best for yourself. Your people would never have allowed one so young to travel the world at your age. If they -"

"They're dead." Asha snapped, her shoulders shuddering violently. "I know it seems to be an inconvenience for everyone, but I'm all that's left. So I'll do as I like, with whom I like, how I like."

The Elf sighed but refrained from commenting, as they had reached the Healing Halls, and he was too busy shouldering open the door. The Changling didn't bother meeting his eyes as she padded into the room ahead of him. His eyes quickly tracked the blood that seeped from the wounds along her back, and his motioned for a healer to come forward.

A male darted to their side almost instantly, his eyes locking in on the blood in shocked horror. In quick-fire Sindarin, the elf began to speak. "This is her, Prince Legolas?" He asked the blonde, who nodded. Asha, who understood only the most basic Sindarin, turned to stare to the blond who had led her there.

"Did he name you a prince?" Asha asked, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

The Elf, Legolas, smiled. "Prince Legolas, son of King Thranduil."

Asha sighed, her eyes moving to study the tall, male Elf before her. "Please inform him that I would prefer to be attended to by a female."

Legolas smiled, and nodded his head slowly, curious as to her reasoning behind a female healer. She had admitted to allowing one of the many male Dwarves to attend to her before, while on the road, so why would that lack of modesty suddenly change?

Asha watched his shadow as she was led behind a wide silk screen, and then set in a tub of cool water. The female healer quickly washed the dust and grime of the road from Asha's skin, her breath coming in swift, silent gasps. Her fingers moved over the damaged flesh, more than a little shocked to find the silver lines already healed over, yet still painfully sensitive to the touch. There was damage to the nerves that lay just below the freshly healed skin, that much the healer knew, but to how much, she could not be sure.

The natural healing talents of Skin-Changers were almost legendary among the Elves, and she couldn't help but wonder how long ago the injury had been inflicted.

A small, wooden mug was pressed into Asha's hands, and although she could not understand the Elf's native tongue, she understood that she wished for her to drink the contents. She drank quickly, her face furrowing at the bitter, metallic taste that flooded her mouth.

Darkness began to dance at the edges of her vision almost immediately, and she fell into a deep, untroubled sleep before she could fully recognize the taste in her cup as a heavy sedative.


	40. Chapter Thirty Nine - The Desolation of Escape

The hour was growing late Bofur designed to speak. "It must be near dawn."

"We're never going to reach the mountain, are we?" Ori said softly, his voice low and filled with pain that was not his own.

"Not stuck in here, you're not." And there he was, the missing Bilbo Baggins, and at his side a large white wolf with eyes that sparkled like a midday sun. There was something strange about her, though, something dark, and the Dwarves jumped back in surprise, their eyes wide.

"Bilbo!" Balin exclaimed. "Asha!"

The Dwarves all began to shout and laugh in relief and joy, causing Asha to whine thinly, her ears laying back as she bared her teeth, promoting Bilbo to shush them almost immediately. "Shhh! There are guards nearby!"

Kili pulled the wolf into a tight hug the moment he was free from his cell, one arm twining over her neck, the other over her shoulders. His fingers dug into her fur for a moment, before he drew back to stare her closely. "You've been gone so long, we thought the Elves may have . . ."

Asha nuzzled into his neck for a moment, then drew back and carefully bumped her head into his before moving to nudge the Dwarves toward the staircase Bilbo pointed out from the side. They were not being led up and into the light, but down into the underground of Thranduil's Kingdom.

Kili was the first to realize where they were. "I don't believe it, we're in the cellars." He hissed when he caught sight of the huge wine barrels.

"You're supposed to be leading us out, not further in," Bofur added, glaring down at the little Hobbit. Asha nipped at his hat for his tone, earning herself a shame-filled glance.

"I know what I'm doing." Bilbo hissed, looking as if he wanted nothing more than to hit the Dwarf standing before him.

Bofur rolled his eyes and pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh."

Bilbo huffed but motioned for the Dwarves to follow him to a large room in which several barrels were stacked sideways down the side of the middle of the room, where Asha knew there to be a hidden door. The barrels were missing lids on one side, and Asha's tail swept close to them as she turned to stare down at the Dwarves.

"Everyone, climb into the barrels, quickly!" Bilbo hissed.

Dwalin cursed low under his breath. "Are you mad? They'll find us!"

Bilbo shook his head quickly, and Asha nudged Kili toward a barrel, then Ori and finally Fili. They stared at her as if she truly had gone mad, and Asha bared her teeth in frustration. She needed words to communicate with the Dwarves, but she knew that her wolf was fading, fading, falling away. How long would be able to hold her wolf to her? How long would she still be considered a Changling?

"No, no they won't." Bilbo protested, pressing a hand against Asha's shoulder. "I promise you. Please, please, you must listen to me!"

Asha noted that the Dwarves did not look entirely convinced.

Thorin seemed to realize the same, for he looked to his friends with a frown and nodded toward the barrels. "Do as he says."

Asha watched the Dwarves pile into the barrels, complaining all the while, but her attention was on the growing clamor above them. She knew that the Elves had found the empty cells.

"Hold your breath," Bilbo commanded, studying to group closely.

"Hold our -?"

And then, before they could protest, Bilbo was pulling the lever and Asha watched as they rolled forward, dumping down into the water below. Asha snagged her adoptive brother's coat in her mouth and dragged him forward, throwing herself after the Dwarves just as a group of Elves darted down the stairs that led to the cellar, their eyes wide as they spotted the milky white wolf sliding down the wooden trap door.

Kili's breath was knocked from his lungs as his barrel hit the water and then again when the shocking cold river water splashed over the edge of the barrel as the large female wolf dropped down in the water, a yelping hobbit clinging to her back.

She paddled doggedly as they others allowed themselves to be carried away by the swift current, Bilbo gripping her fur the entire time. For the Hobbit and she-wolf, the water was bone-biting cold, and Asha struggled to remain above the surface of the water. There were shouts sounding out all around her, and she heard several of the group calling out to Bilbo.

"Well done, Master Baggins!" That was Nori, and he was louder than all the others.

"Go!" Bilbo sputtered, swallowing a mouthful of water. "Just go!"

Thorin nodded and motioned for the others to let go of the rocks walls to their sides. They pushed forward, ignoring the Elves that rushed along passages in the lower levels of the Woodland Realm.

"Hold on!" Thorin yelled just as they emerged into the bright forest sunlight.

Asha had little time to respond, and she yelped as she went over the side of the waterfall, her lungs filling with the icy water as she was ducked under again and again by the raging rapids they floated down.

A horn blew from somewhere above and as they rounded a corner, Asha caught sight of a guard post built above the waters. The heavily armored Elves standing guard there darted forward, pulling a lever, causing a heavy metal sluice gate to block their escape.

The Dwarves slammed against the gate, their wooden barrels creaking ominously against the heavy metal. Thorin cursed loudly, his fists bashing against the grate violently. Asha was one of the last in the line flowing down the river, so she saw the Elves guarding the gate pull their swords. She saw the shortest of the Elves fall due to a black arrow protruding from his throat. Even as a wolf, Asha couldn't help but gasp, and she was rewarded by another lung full of river water rolling down her throat.

Orcs were swarming over the guard post, killing the Elves, shouting in Black Speech to others who emerged from the bushes.

"Watch out!" Bofur all but screamed. "There be Orcs!"

The Orcs began throwing themselves at the Dwarves, and Asha found that she was proud of the little Hobbit clinging to her back, as he stabbed at the nearest of the foul creatures with the tiny sword he had been gifted by Gandalf. Dwalin, meanwhile, elbowed another in the face, while Ori - sweet, sweet, Ori - all but climbed from his barrel to take hold of Asha's scruff, dragging her from the line of fire just as an Orc sword came swinging down where her head had been only moments before.

Her muscles were aching, and she could barely keep herself above water as she watched the others fight the Orcs all around them. Her wolf was silent, something that had never happened before, and Asha realized that it was only her willpower that kept the wolf skin covering her body.

Kili looked up and saw the lever the Elven guard had pulled earlier, and a plan quickly formed in his head. He managed to pull himself up and out from the barrel he rode low in, then ran up the stairs toward the lever. Unarmed, he ducked as an Orc swung at him without mercy.

"Kili!" Dwalin yelled, throwing a sword he had gotten from either the Elves or the Orcs.

The sword landed easily in Kili's hands, and he fought his way to the top of the stairs, unaware of the Orc leaping at his back, raising a spear to stab him. Fili screamed, throwing a short sword to kill the Orc before it could touch his brother, and for a moment, the Company thought he would make it. And then he stopped short, his hands falling to the black arrow that seemed to have sprouted from his thigh between one blink and the next.

Fili's voice was too high, filled with terror. "Kili!"

An Orc leaped over the others to kill the dark-haired prince, but an arrow suddenly flew into its head. Kili followed the arrows line of origin and saw the red-haired she-Elf running through the bushes. She shot another Orc, then killed another with her dagger.

Kili managed to grab the lever then, opening the sluice gate and allowing the Dwarves passage through. Asha was ducked under then, and she missed Kili's fall into his barrel, but she did rise to the surface in time to find Bilbo clinging to the side of Nori's barrel, instead of her fur. After a moment, she realized that her wolf pelt had fallen from her body and she floated down the river as a small, naked woman.

Threading a small, slightly blue hand around the lip of the nearest barrel, Asha found herself clinging to Fili's makeshift boat as they tried to paddle and steer with their hands, but to no avail; the river ran to wild, and within moments, Asha was torn from Fili's barrel, only to be thrown into Bofur's.

Asha lost track of her surroundings then, and her world centered around rocking from one barrel to the next, mouth and nose above the water, bones aching from the icy chill, and through it all - she could not feel her wolf.


	41. Chapter Forty - The Desolation of Loss

Asha couldn’t be sure when the current finally evened out and slowed, or when the Orcs fell behind, their pursuit forgotten. They seemed to have passed the borders of the Woodland Realm as well, because they were no longer followed by the Elves, either.

“Anything behind us?” Thorin called, eyes darting to the small form bobbing along with Bombur’s barrel.

“Not that I can see,” Balin called, who was the farthest back.

Bofur appeared over the edge of his barrel, water spouting from his mouth as he laughed, nearly tipping the barrel so far into the water that he might have capsized it if hadn’t been for Asha using her shoulder to keep the make-shift boat steady. “I think we’ve outrun the Orcs!”

“Not for long.” Thorin quickly shook his head. “We’ve lost the current.”

“And Bombur’s half drowned!” Dwalin called, catching sight of the fat Dwarf only just barely keeping his head over the water. He was so heavy, it seemed, that his barrel couldn’t support his weight.

“Make for the shore!” Thorin called, and Asha instantly shot for the rocky riverside, hair flowing behind her as she swam through the water.

The Dwarves followed after her slowly, bobbing awkwardly as they paddled with their arms or weapons or, in Thorin’s case, a branch that happened to float within grabbing distance of his barrel.

She was already shivering, her hair dripping lankly down her back and chest, effectively covering anything that might have made the arrival of the Dwarves uncomfortable. She watched listlessly as Nori reached the shallows, slogging up the rocky shore, muttering about Orcs and barrels and drowning all the while, his carefully molded hair falling limply around his face. Thorin was next, who overturned into the water, struggling to keep his feet in the knee-deep surf as he waded out after Nori.

“Don’t Dwarves swim?” Asha asked quietly, watching the others were helped from their barrels.

“Haven’t you noticed before, lass?” Dwalin asked eyebrows raised as she continued to sit on the rocks, eyes roaming over the Dwarves as she allowed the sun to dry her hair. “We’ve rocks in our very bones, and when the water takes us over the head, we will be seen no more.”

“I never realized.” Asha murmured, eyes searching for Kili, who had swum with her without problem in Rivendell. She found him just as he dropped to his knees, groaning through gritted teeth. The ice that had developed in her joints thawed and she uncurled from her spot and ran up the sloping rock to reach him as quickly as she could while barefoot and adrift from the loss of her wolf. Bofur made it first, however, squinting at the prince in concern as he swiped at the wound with a handkerchief that was soaked with dirty river water.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” Kili lied, edging up onto a rock.

“You’re lying.” Asha accused, crouching down so that she could clearly see the wound. “The arrowhead . . . it’s still in the muscle. When you dropped into the barrel, it broke the shaft off but left the arrowhead behind - will you stop that!” She growled, yanking the handkerchief from his hands and throwing it as far as she was able. “It’s going to get infected at this rate.”

“On your feet,” Thorin ordered over the non-too-quiet moans and protests of the company, who now sported scrapes and bruises to rival Asha’s.

“Kili’s wounded,” Fili said, shaking his head. “His leg needs binding.”

“There is an Orc pack on our trail.” Thorin retorted, glancing up the river, in the direction they had come from. “We should not be around when they arrive.”

Asha’s eyes flashed as she spun on her heels, her hair billowing about her like a fan, her naked skin gleaming in the sunlight. “If we do not remove the arrowhead and bind the wound, Kili could lose his leg. I’ve seen this type of wound before, and it will not end well.”

Thorin glared at her for a moment, but in the end, he nodded his acquiescent. “You’ve five minutes.” He informed them shortly. “Then we move.”

 “To where?” Balin questioned, an uncharacteristic tone of annoyance in his voice.

Bilbo stumbled forward, sniffing past the water dripping from his nose. “To the mountain. We’re so close.”

Balin merely shook his head. “A lake lies between us and that mountain, Master Baggins.”

“Why wouldn’t we go around then?” Asha questioned as her fingers nimble extracted the arrowhead from Kili’s leg.

“The Orcs will run s down, as sure as daylight.” Dwalin scoffed, yanking Bilbo’s overcoat from his shoulders and tossing it to Asha. “Cover yourself lass, it’s a might different to see you this way when it’s not necessary.”

Asha slipped the coat on absentmindedly, her fingers searching the pockets until she came up with one of Bilbo’s nearly pristine handkerchiefs.

“Bilbo, do you mind . . .” She asked, holding the cloth up, and when Bilbo quickly shook his head, she rippled the cloth into two, then four pieces.

Fili stood over Kili’s shoulders, watching Asha’s pale face as she folded two of the strips into a thick pad to protect the wound from further trauma before tying them down with fierce efficiency. Her hands were steady and her movements quick and practiced as the bandage went down flat and smooth, snug enough to stop the bleeding but not tight enough to disrupt the circulation to his leg.

Nearly the whole of the company was so engrossed with watching Asha bind Kili’s wound that it took them several moments to notice the human archer not ten yards away, his arrow trained on Ori. Dwalin was the first to notice, and he lunged in between the two, a tree branch held up as a weapon, and it took the arrow meant for his heat. The archer was already turning, his next arrow striking the raised rock from Asha’s hand.

“Do it again, and you’re dead.” He warned eyes on Asha. Kili placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing, but she didn’t dare turn to look up at his face. His hand was warm through the chill of her own wet skin, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“Excuse me,” Balin said, easing forward, hands raised in the universal sign of peace even as the archer turned his next arrow towards his chest. “but you're from Lake Town if I’m not mistaken? That barge over there . . . it wouldn’t be available for higher by any chance?”

The archer let the tension out of his bowstring, his gaze raking over them - unarmed, dripping wet, half of them old enough to sport white or gray hair, one clearly injured, and the little female clearly naked beneath the ill-fitting coat enveloping her body.

“That would depend on the job.” He said shortly, walking past, to begin collecting the barrels.

The Company followed the archer to his vessel, watching him as he rolled the barrels aboard one by one as Balin spoke, clearly hoping to gain them passage to the town.

“What makes you think I would help you?” The archer questioned, eyeing them suspiciously.

“Those boots have seen better days,” Balin responded simply. “As has that coat. And no doubt you have some hungry mouths to feed.”

It was almost impossible to notice, but Asha saw the archer give Balin the tiniest of nods.

“How many bairns?” Balin inquired, hands behind his back.

The archer studied Balin for a moment before answering. “A boy and two girls.”

“And your wife, I imagine she’s a beauty.” Balin smiled, but the expression was not echoed by the archer.

“Aye. She was.” He said, glaring hard at the barrel beneath his palm as if it had done something horribly foul to him and his kin.

The smile slipped from Balin’s face and he seemed at a lost for words as Asha stepped forward.

“I’m sorry.” She said quietly, the wind picking up her hair and teasing the long strands as it breezed by.

“Oh, come on, come on,” Dwalin muttered, clearly over the prattle. “Enough of the niceties.”

The archer looked up sharply, eyes narrowed. “What’s your hurry?”

“What’s it to you?” Dwalin scowled.

The archer all but leaped from his barge, scowling. “I would like to know who you are, and what you are doing in these lands.”

“We are simple merchants from the Blue Mountains, journeying to see our ken in the Iron Hills,” Balin answered, sending a hard look over his shoulder to Dwalin, who merely folded his arms across his chest.

“Simple merchants, you say?” Bard scoffed, a small smile playing over his lips as he studied the group before him, his eyes lingering on Asha, who was shivering violently.

“We need food,” Thorin stated, stepping forward. “Supplies. Weapons. Can you help us?”

Asha held her breath as she watched the archer rub his fingers over the damage Orc and Elf arrows had left in their barrels’ sides.

“I know where these came from.” He informed them. “I don’t know what business you had with the Elves, but I don’t think it ended well.” He took in the surprised looks of the Company and shook his head. “No one enters Lake Town but by leave of the Master. He makes his wealth through trade with the Woodland Elves. He would see you in irons before risking the wrath of King Thranduil.”

“I’ll wager there are ways to enter the town unseen,” Balin said quickly, holding out a hand to stop Thorin as he started forward.

“Aye, but for that, you would need a smuggler.”

“For which we would pay double,” Balin said even more quickly.

The archer seemed to contemplate their offer for a moment before nodding at the barge.

“Well then, we should be leaving soon, shouldn’t we?” He threw over his shoulder as he made his way to the helm.

Asha nearly didn't notice Kili ushering her up into the boat, and it wasn't until he stared at her strangely for a moment, his head cocked to the side, that she realized that she was speaking out loud. 

"What? What have you lost, Men lananubukhs?" Kili asked softly, rubbing his hands in a comforting manner along her shoulders and upper arms. 

Asha stared up with wide, fever-bright eyes, and when she spoke her voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper. 

"My wolf. I've lost my wolf." 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations: 
> 
> My love - Men lananubukhs


	42. Chapter Forty One - The Desolation of Cold

“You know, you never did tell us how Bilbo and you managed to escape. The last we saw of you, you were being taken to speak with that tree-shager Thranduil, and then you never came back.” Kili commented, eyebrows furrowed from concern.

They had been traveling north for the whole of the day, fog rolling in as they moved farther across the water, and the youngest Dwarves, Hobbit, and Changeling were huddled together from the chill that seemed to rise from the water. By noon they had all noticed the large chunks of ice floating through the water, and Asha watched them with a strange sense of nostalgia.

“We lie in the shadow of the Mountain here.” The archer - Bard - had explained. “The ice rarely melts.”

Asha had merely nodded, her mind far away to lakes that stayed frozen all year round, of waterfalls slick with ice, of snow that fell so deeply one could tunnel between house and barn without fear of collapse.

Now, however, Stone pillars, many still sporting buttresses, appeared through the fog, remnants of a grand lake town that had long since fallen to ruin.

Eyes on the nearest pillar, Asha shrugged her shoulders for a moment before turning her attention back to Kili.

“The Elves, they sent me to their healers, fussed over my back for a bit, and then they gave me something to drink. It was drugged, and I quickly fell asleep.” Asha explained, sneezing twice. “When I awoke Bilbo was there, and he helped me to the dungeons. It really isn’t a very thrilling tale, you see.” She added, sneezing once more, shivering violently.

“Begging your pardon, Asha, but I think you’ve caught a cold. Here.” Ori offered his wool scarf, which had already dried, and then wrapped it around the Changelings neck when she made to shake her head.

Bard edged uncomfortably close to one of the pillars then, making everyone tense.

“What are you trying to do, drown us?” Thorin asked, glaring at Bard.

“I was born and breed on these water, Master Dwarf,” Bard responded without so much as sparing Thorin a second glance. “If I wanted to drown you, I would not do it here."

“Oh, I’ve had enough of this lippy lake man,” Dwalin grumbled, glaring up at Bard without even trying to hide his contempt. “I saw we throw him overboard and be done with him.”

“Oh, Bard, his name is Bard.” Bilbo snapped from Asha’s side, where he was fussing over her something horribly.

“How do you know?” Bofur inquired, eyebrows raised.

“I asked him,” Asha admitted, sneezing once again. Her shivering had become more violent, despite the fact she was dry and pressed between Ori and Kili, both of which produced a startling amount of heat. She felt as if the cold had sunk into her bones, radiated through her insides until she was made up of the ice the surrounded them. Kili threw an arm around her shoulders and she gratefully slumped down until she was curled against his side, her hair covering her nearly as much as Bilbo’s coat.

“I don’t care what he calls himself,” Dwalin grumbled. “I don’t like him.”

“We don’t have to like him,” Balin said sensibly, stacking coins. “We simply have to pay him. Come on, now, lads. Turn out your pockets.”

Everyone did, though most of their loose change had been lost to various catastrophes they had undergone during the quest and Balin counted what was before him once, twice, and then three times before finally shaking his head.

“There’s, ahh, there’s a wee problem.” He sighed. “We’re ten coins short.”

Thorin gazed about the Company for a moment before his eyes clapped on Gloin and he smiled. “Gloin. Come on. Give us what you have.”

Gloin shook his head, his arms crossed. “Don’t look to me. I have been bleed dry by this venture. And what have I seen for my investment?” He was so enthralled with his own speech that he didn’t see the others turning to the side, their eyes wide as they peered up and threw the mist that surrounded them, the shape of the Lonely Mountain finally viable for their eyes. “Naught but misery and grief and - Bless my beard.” He sighed, having finally spotted the source of the others dismissal. He stared as well for a moment and then he pulled a thin leather pouch from his boots. “Here, take it. Take all of it.”

The group was silent for a moment, and then Ori turned to Asha, his face wistful. "Will you sing for us, Asha?" 

"What would you have me sing?" Asha asked, coughing slightly. 

Ori shook his head. "Anything." 

Asha was quiet for a long moment, and then she opened her mouth and began to sing,

"Down by the water, under the willow  
Sits a lone ranger, minding the willow  
He and his wife once lived happily  
Planted a seed, that grew through the reeds  
Summers and winters, through snowy Decembers  
Sat by the water close to the embers  
Missing out the lives that they once had before  
  
I wouldn't leave you  
I would hold you  
When the last day comes  
What if you need me  
Won't you hold me  
On the last day, our last day  
  
Mr. & Mrs. dreamed of a willow  
Carving their names, into their willow  
If he had spoken, love would return  
Spoken inside, too soft to be heard  
Summers and winters, through snowy Decembers  
Sat by the water, remembering embers  
Missing out the lives that they once had before  
  
I wouldn't leave you  
I would hold you  
When the last day comes  
What if you need me  
Won't you hold me  
On the last day, our last day  
  
Ahhhhh, ahhhhh  
  
Somewhere the timing will all come together  
The mishaps will turn into sunny Decembers  
The lovers will be able to find their willow  
  
I wouldn't leave you  
I would hold you  
When the last day comes  
I wouldn't leave you  
I would hold you  
When the last day comes  
What if you need me  
Won't you hold me  
On the last day, our last day  
Ahhhhh, ahhhhh"

The Company could hear the pain in her voice as she sang, the raspy quality to it, and Ori ducked his head.

"What is that one called?" 

"Willow," Asha answered softly. "My mother wrote it for my father after . . . well, after." 

Bard interrupted the moment, striding towards them purposefully. “The money, quick.” He said. “Give it to me.”

“We will pay you when we receive our provisions, and not before,” Thorin replied stoutly, shaking his head.

“If you value your freedom, you’ll do as I say,” Bard said glancing up. “There are guards ahead.”

Asha hacked a painful cough as Balin handed over the coins, and it was only by Kili’s instance that she climbed into the barrel at Bards order.

Asha wasn’t sure if she dozed, or if perhaps the world went silent for a moment, but the next thing she knew there were fish raining down from above, startling her so badly that she nearly tilted her barrel to the side in an attempt to escape the unpleasant feeling. Covering her head with her arms and resigning herself to the cold, clammy, smelly trip father into the town, Asha longed after her own cottage, a warm bath, a hot meal, all the comforts of home that she had been denied since their departure from Beorn’s house so many weeks before.

Time seemed to skip ahead again in the most peculiar fashion and the next moment she was being tipped from her barrel and helped to her feet.

“Come on, Asha. Bard’s promised that we’ll be able to clean up and obtain new clothes once we arrive at his home.” Kili assured her, rubbing her back briskly as she began coughing roughly.

“Stay close,” Bard called over his shoulder as began to lead the way long wooden walkways which bobbed unnaturally atop the water. Peering around a corner, he waved after them, motioning for them to come forward. “Follow me.”

“What is this place?” Bilbo asked quietly, sneezing. Whatever it was that Asha had caught, it seemed that Bilbo now had as well.

“This, master Baggins, is the world of men,” Thorin replied as they made their way across a series of decks and ramshackle bridges in the shadows of tall, leaning houses, all separated by a broad, filthy channel. The townsfolk stared in wonder as the group passed, the children leaning forward to get a better look, or pointing, tugging insistently at their mothers’ aprons or their fathers’ sleeves.

“Keep your head’s down and keep moving,” Bard called to them as they edged along a marketplace. “Quickly now.”

“Halt!” Asha looked up, sight unfocused, and found a man standing across the way, a metal helmet resting atop his head, his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Oi!”

“Come on,” Thorin whispered roughly. “Move.”

“In the name of the Master of Lake Town,” The man shouted, but the Dwarves were already moving, Bilbo and Asha being herded along with them as they ducked around and past stalls laden with goods, “I said halt!”

The Company, of course, paid this little mind as they continued onward, bard staring after them anxiously. The Dwarves for their part, quickly put the guards out of commission, waylaying them with oars and planks of wood, tripping them with ropes and nets, and within moments the guards were motionless and pale on the ground.

The people of Lake Town, rather than rise the alarm, merely watched with wide eyes, small smiles spreading across their faces as they watched the bullies of the guard taken down, but a heartbeat later more guards appeared and the crowd quickly dispersed.

“What’s going on here?” The leader called out, gazing about the market suspiciously as he walked deeper into the market. “Stay where you are. Nobody leaves.”

Asha watched with mounting horror as Bard darted forward, intercepting the guards before they could come across her hiding spot, which, in reality, wasn’t much of a hiding spot at all - she stood silently behind one of the women tending a stall with a great many layers of clothes, her breath quick and crackling as she tried to suppress the coughs that tried to force their way past her lips.

Bard spoke quietly with the guard for a moment, then held up a thin, lacy nightgown of all things, a comment about the guard's wife leaving his mouth a moment before the guard went red in the face.

Asha couldn’t be sure when the guards wandered away. It seemed as if between one breath and the next they went from hiding away in the marketplace to hurrying up the walkways again as Bard guided them deftly through the town. A boy appeared at some point, his tone urgent, although Asha could hardly make out the words.

Bard turned to the Company, his eyes moving quickly over their surroundings as he thought. “Into the water with you.” He said finally, catching the nearest Dwarf by the shoulders.

“What?” Nori bristled.

“Our house is at the end of this row,” Bard explained. “The end of this walkway, if you follow. With it being watched the safest way for you to enter is from under the walkway, in the water, and up through, well, through the entrance to the lake at the lowest level.

“We can not swim.” Dori sputtered, looking scandalized.

“I can swim, though.” Asha offered, sneezing. “So can Fili and Kili and Ori. We can help the others along, make sure none of you drown.”

Without another word Asha slipped over the edge of the walkway and into the icy water, leaving not a splash behind, only a small stream of bubbles.

“After her, then,” Bard said, clapping his son on the shoulder before continuing on down the way, speaking quietly with his son.

There was an impatient rap against the wood underfoot, and they entered the water quickly.

Asha’s lips had turned a startling shade of blue by the time all thirteen Dwarves and Bilbo had joined her under the walkway, but her hands were steady as she helped them to latch onto the rugs under the walkway.

They arrived at the end of the row only a few moments later and then the knock came, causing Asha to motion Dwalin forward to go first. She heard Dwalin’s growled threat to whoever it was above helping them out, and let out a shaky, uneven laugh as she motioned the others forward. Bilbo, Nori, Fili, Dori, Bifur . . . When everyone was accounted for, she allowed Kili and Fili to both lean down and haul her from the water, as it seemed that her limbs weren’t quite working the way they were supposed to.

“Oin!” Kili called as they all received loose articles of clothing that fit them awkwardly. “Asha and Bilbo won’t stop shaking.”

“M’m fine.” Asha tried to murmur, but all that came from her lips was a small whimper. The world around her was swinging crazily back and forth, almost as if she were back in the river, clinging tightly to the barrels before her, and then, without warning, everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> Willow - Jasmine Thompson


	43. Chapter Forty Two - The Desolation of Sickness

 

Asha woke in a dark room, wearing clothes she didn’t recognize and curled atop a large bed with a multitude of blankets weighing down her slight form. She sat upright, ignoring the way her head swam as she dragged in startled gasps of air. She pushed the blankets from her body, taking in the sight of the pale flannel nightgown someone had changed her into. Shivers began to crawl down her spine as the cold of the room seeped into her bones and so, sniffing, she pulled the top most blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders like an ill-fitting cloak. There were several bed-rolls laying about the floor, each one looking as if it had recently been slept in, but aside from this, the room contained only the bed, a chair, and a small desk, each one stationed either near or directly next to the bed she had awoken in.

Nowhere, however, were the Dwarves, and the dreams of them leaving her without warning, without explanation, abruptly flooded her mind.

Still shivering, and suddenly very frightened, Asha hurried toward the door, unsteady on her feet. Her head and joints ached painfully, and her neck felt uncomfortably thick as if she had breathed in sand. She had only just reached for the doorknob when the door opened of its own accord, revealing a young human girl with a large bowl of broth that seemed to be swimming with some sort of meat and vegetable in one hand, and a pitcher of wine or water, Asha couldn’t be sure.

“Oh! You’re finally awake!” The girl said, smiling brightly. “You’re husbands going to be upset he wasn’t here when you woke . . . he had business to attend to with the Master.”

“My husband?” Asha repeated, the confusion apparent in her tone as she watched the girl place the soup and drink on the desk. She could remember faint patches of their arrival to Lake Town. The fish . . . the cold of the water as they were forced to swim to Bard’s home . . . a staircase that seemed to spiral into infinity, the steps never-ending, and then falling, falling, falling . . . and then the nothing. “Where is everyone . . . where are the Dwarves I traveled with? Who are you?” The pitch of her voice rose with each question until she was nearly screaming.

“Your companions are all here, but your husband demanded that you be left alone while you recover and he is away. Oh, I nearly forgot to tell you, my name is Sigrid! You meet my father and my brother when you came to the town, but they think that you won’t really remember meeting me or my sister.” The girl, Sigrid, finished.

Asha stared at the girl for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Bard . . . and his son . . . and you are his daughter?”

“Yes. I’m the oldest as well, so they all felt that you would be safe if they left you under my care while they spoke with the Master.” Sigrid nodded as if that settled the matter. “Now, you should really get back into bed.”

“But I -” Asha started, but Sigrid plowed right on ahead, drowning out whatever it was that she might have said.

“And once you’ve eaten a bit and rested, all call in some of the others to come visit you.”

Grumbling a bit, Asha climbed back beneath the sheets and allowed Sigrid to place the bowl between her hands. Her stomach was aching painfully, and she couldn’t bring herself to protest the food - or, for that matter, the soft bed beneath her or the warm blankets keeping the chill away.

Sigrid watched her closely, waiting until Asha had drained a little over half the bowl before she went to the doorway, glancing up the hall. “She’s awake. Had he come back yet?” She questioned, and though Asha couldn’t hear the voice as the Dwarf replied, she did hear them as they scrambled to their feet.

A moment later Ori burst through the doorway, both Nori and Dori behind him, all looking quite ecstatic.

“Asha! You’re really awake!” Ori cried out, sprinting to her side. His bag was slung over his shoulders, and something large, thick, and a shade between gray and lilac was billowing from under the lip of the bag. “Everyone has been so worried, even Thorin, and I thought Kili was going to start tearing down the walls of Bard's home when you collapsed and then wouldn’t wake up.”

“That sounds a bit like Kili.” Asha smiled softly, swirling the contents of her bowl meditatively. “Where are the others?” She continued, curious as to why the building sounded so quiet despite the appearance of all the Dwarves all sleeping in the room with her.

“Well, let's see . . . Fili, Kili, Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin are speaking with the Master, finalizing our plans to travel to the mountain. Oin is at the market, I believe, purchasing medical supplies for both you and Kili -”

“Kili? Why does he need medical supplies for Kili?” Asha interrupted with a frown.  

“Oin treated Kili’s wound, but it was a black arrow . . .” Ori shuddered. “We thought that he might not make it, but he pulled through, in the end . . .”

“Ori, how long have I been asleep?” Asha asked quietly.

“Nearly four days now,” Nori responded when it was clear that Ori was lost in his own thoughts. “We’ve planned to leave either today or tomorrow.”

“Lovely.” Asha sighed, but the sigh turned into a cough and by the time the fit had passed she was red in the face and her chest ached horribly. “I didn’t . . . while I was sick, I didn’t happen to shift, did I?” She held the bowl of soup to her lips, striving to appear nonchalant, but when Ori replied, she couldn’t help the tears that flooded her eyes.

“I can’t feel her anymore, you know,” Asha whispered softly. “My wolf. I’m afraid . . . what if I’ve lost her?”

Ori sighed and scooted forward until he was sitting with his hip pressed against hers, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He didn’t speak, nor did Nori or Dori. Instead, they sat there in silence, allowing the silence to echo around them comfortably until -

“Before I forget, who is my husband? Sigrid mentioned something about him and for the life of me, I can’t remember being married.” Asha smiled as if reassuring them that she wasn’t cross.

“Kili, of course.” Nori snorted. “When the Master first realized we were here, we ran into a bit of trouble. Some bloody prophecy about Dwarves returning to retake the mountain. The Master attempted to make a fuss about the quest. Well, you needed attention, didn’t you, so Thorin talked the Master down and then Kili demanded that the Master call a healer so that you could be treated. Oin was out of herbs, you see, and there wasn’t much we could do about any of it. He ended up telling the Master that you were a member of the royal family so that you’d get the attention you needed quickly and everyone assumed that you and he were, well, married.”

“And no one thought to correct them?” Asha asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, you’re as good as married, in the eyes of our people.” Ori pointed out helpfully. “You’ve each braided the other's hair, and after what happened at Beorn’s -”

Asha looked up so suddenly that her skull nearly collided with Ori’s chin. “You know?”

“Of course we know. Neither of you was exactly quiet, were you?” Nori chucked, ignoring the red blush that was bleeding across Asha’s face. “Of course, after we’ve reclaimed the mountain you’ll both have to go about the proper courting, and the announcements will have to be made, courting gifts exchanged . . .”

Dori took the bowl from her hands as she stared, slack-jawed at Nori, and placed it on the desk. “Water?” He offered, gesturing to the clean cup Sigrid had left for her. Asha nodded as she mulled over Nori’s words, completely bemused.

~~~

Kili burst into the bedroom none too gracefully, his face falling when he saw that Asha was asleep atop the blankets, her legs pulled to her chest in a way that seemed fairly feral. Ori, meanwhile, sat in the chair next to the bed, knitting away at a large sweater that seemed just the right size for the Changeling lass. There was a fragrant smelling mug on the desk that reminded Kili of Beorn’s home somehow, and Ori motioned to it without looking away from his knitting.

“She’ll need to drink that when she wakes up. It’s a milk and honey tea that Sigrid swears by. Asha’s been aching all day, and Sigrid believes that it will help her.” Ori informed Kili as he leaned forward, packing away his supplies.

“How is she?”

“She’s well.” Ori smiled. “She knows that you told everyone that she’s your wife, and she was rather . . . amused by the thought, to say the least. She didn’t seem angry, though. She ate a bowl of soup when she first woke, but she’s not had much of an appetite since. She’s worried about her wolf.”

Kili nodded, remembering her words. ‘My wolf. I’ve lost my wolf.’

“If that’s all you’ll be wanting, I’m going to go eat with the others now,” Ori said, dusting himself off and smiling. “Oin thinks that she’ll be up on her feet by tomorrow so long as she sleeps well tonight.”

Kili watched his friend go, then moved to settle down in the wooden chair he had just vacated. He wished that he hadn’t gone with his uncle and brother to see the Master, that he’d stayed with Asha instead, but there had been no avoiding the meeting. They needed to make sure the arrangements were settled. Thorin worried that they might be forced to leave Asha behind, and Kili winced at the thought. They wouldn’t leave until the morning after next, he knew, but he wondered if she would be well enough by then to travel to the mountain with the Company, to help defend against a dragon. His uncle worried about having to leave Kili behind as well, but Kili was fierce in his going to the mountain with the others. Never mind that his wound remained swollen and red, never mind that the whole of his leg ached like someone had set coals along his bones. He was going and that was that.

“If you continue frowning like that, your face is sure to stay that way.” A soft voice murmured sleepily from the bed, startling Kili badly enough that he nearly fell from the chair.

Kili chuckled at the sight of Asha sitting on the bed, her behind resting on her heels as she studied him sleepily, her hair a riot around her face, as he righted himself in the chair. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No.” Asha hummed groggily, rubbing at her eyes. She was sight, curled atop the blankets, the nightgown hiked up to her thighs, her long eyelashes fluttering. “I woke because my muscles ache like I’ve been trampled by a heard of horses.”

Kili stood and fetched the drink Ori had left behind. “Drink this. Ori says that it will help you feel better.” He said, offering her the mug. "The other have opted to sleep in their own rooms now that you've awoke."

Asha frowned but reached for the mug with both hands. She seemed smaller somehow, her wrists thinner, her neck leaner, her cheeks more pronounced. He pressed it into her grip, his hands following after her own as she lifted it to her lips, a tentative sip slipped past her teeth.

“Milk and honey?” Asha contemplated, smiling softly before she tipped the mug back and drank deeply. Her neck worked as she swallowed and Kili tried to think of anything but the fact that her skin seemed to be just as soft as silk, her hair the color of lace, her breasts shifting beneath the nightgown while the hem rose higher on her thighs. It wasn’t appropriate to think about how attractive she was when she was unwell.

“How do you feel?” Kili asked, dragging his eyes away from the curve of her hip, only to find her staring at him through her lashes, a blush high in her cheeks. “Asha?”

“Hmm?” Asha hummed, shaking her head slowly. “Sorry, just, umm, was just lost in thought. Did you know that in the Shire, during the winter months, Hobbits are known to share their bed with others, even if they are not strictly courting? They do it for the warmth . . .”

Kili could feel his cheeks go ruddy, but his eyebrows rose at the thought. “Are you cold, men valaki?”

“Freezing.” Asha murmured, and the next moment Kili had her in his arms as he pulled the blankets back from the pillows. He allowed Asha to bounce down onto the feather mattress, and she giggled, her eyes heavily lidded. Kili sat down at the edge, toeing off his boots as he allowed his weight to roll her to his side.

“I suppose I can ignore propriety for one night.” Kili teased as he climbed under the blankets, suddenly aware of how small she seemed when she was so close, how large he was in comparison. He wasn’t the largest Dwarf among the Company, not by a long shot, but she somehow made him feel as if he were as tall as the Men-Folk.

Kili settled down with his chest pressed against her back, one arm beneath her head as a pillow while the other wrapped possessively around her waist, drawing her as close as physically possible. He wasn’t sure how much he was going to sleep that night, but he placed a soft kiss to the crown of her skull without thought and allowed his eyes to slip shut as he listened to her breath grow slow and stead.

“Kili?”

“Hmmm?”

“Will you . . . will you sing a song for me?”

Kili rose to his elbow, a faint smile spreading across his face. Asha’s eyes were closed, and if wasn’t for the fact he knew she had spoken, he might have thought she was asleep. Fingers running through her hair, he began to sing.

“Hush now, my Storeen  
Close your eyes and sleep  
Waltzing the waves  
Diving the deep  
Stars are shining bright  
The wind is on the rise  
Whispering words of long-lost lullabies  
  
Oh, won't you come with me?  
Where the moon is made of gold  
And in the morning sun  
We'll be sailing  
Oh, won't you come with me?  
Where the ocean meets the sky  
And as the clouds roll by  
We'll sing the song of the sea  
  
I had a dream last night  
And heard the sweetest sound  
I saw a great white light and dancers in the round  
Castles in the sand  
Cradles in the trees  
Don't cry, I'll see you by and by  
  
Oh, won't you come with me?  
Where the moon is made of gold  
And in the morning sun  
We'll be sailing  
Oh, won't you come with me?  
Where the ocean meets the sky  
And as the clouds roll by  
We'll sing the song of the sea  
  
Rolling, rolling  
Rolling, rolling  
  
Oh, won't you come with me?  
Where the moon is made of gold  
And in the morning sun  
We'll be sailing free  
Oh, won't you come with me?  
Where the ocean meets the sky  
And as the clouds roll by  
We'll sing the song of the sea.”

Asha hummed contently, and Kili buried his nose into her hair.

“Sleep well, azyungel men.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> My treasure - Azyungel men  
> My One - Men Valaki
> 
> Songs:  
> Song of the Sea (Lullaby) (From "Song Of The Sea") - Nolwenn Leroy


	44. Chapter Forty Three - The Desolation of Passion

 

“Asha? Asha, wake up, men lananubukhs.”

 “Hmm?” Asha woke slowly, her nose crinkling, her lashes fluttering as she attempted to take note of her surroundings. “Kili? Why is it so . . . hot?”

 “I’ve had a bath drawn,” Kili said, smiling. “I thought you might want to bathe after being sick for so long.”

 “But I -”

 "Hush.” Kili shook his head. “I wanted to take care of you.”

Asha could all but see her stomach somersaulting at his words. She licked her lips, trying to moisten them so that she could do more than squeak. She was capable of taking care of herself if only she could find a way to move again. She felt as if she were paralyzed, caught as she was in Kili’s intent gaze.

Without a word he hoisted Asha up so that she was sitting, and then caught the hem of her nightgown, simply pulling it over her head before she had a chance to stop him. She gasped and covered her generous breasts with her hands, her face going from a bright red to a nearly translucent white.

“Your bath, men valaki.” He reminded.

She swallowed twice. “I can undress myself.”

“And deny me the pleasure of doing it for you?”

Asha stared mutely at his chest, and he took her wrists gently, pulling her arms down and away from her body. A blush spread from her toes all the way to her face. She could feel the warmth running under her skin and the moisture that was gathering between her legs. A cool breeze that had somehow slipped through the crack under the door teased her bare breasts, so that her nipples reacted, forming hard nubs that drew his attention.

“You're so brave, not caring that the others saw you naked in the river, but the moment we are alone, you suddenly become a blushing maid.” Kili chuckled, nuzzling at her neck.

Being naked in the river while we’re being chased by Orcs is completely different than this.” Asha protested.

“But why would you want to hide your breasts from me? Are they not part of my woman? Do they not belong to me just as she does? Is my body not yours?” Kili said, drawing back, his gaze drifting over her with a hint of possession.

He stood then and if she had been standing her legs might have buckled. He was naked from the waist up. Magnificently so. There was no way to breathe. Her mind came crashing to a halt. Despite his Dwarven statue, there was nothing small about Kili, and at that moment, there was no doubt that he was aroused, if the tent in his trousers were anything to go by.

“I love the way you blush.” He said, smiling. “So enticing. I had no idea my little wolf would be so beautiful, so perfect.”

Asha felt light-headed. Dizzy. Faint. The room tilted and Kili swept her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. “You forgot to breathe, aiteag. It helps.”

Asha was fairly certain that nothing was going to help, but she took a breath anyway and the next moment he lowered her into the blessedly hot water. She wasn’t sure how he convinced someone to heat enough water to fill the tub, but every cell in her body thanked him for the effort. The heat surrounded her, easing the terrible strain on her muscles that the physical exertion of being sick had brought, as well as the tension of dealing with Kili while fully unclothed. She ducked her head under the water, but when she emerged and reached for the bar of soap she had spotted on the small ledge of the tub, his hand was there before hers.

“Let me, men cridhe. It gives me pleasure.”

He gently rubbed the soup into her hair, and though it wasn’t scented, it felt nice to know she would be clean. His fingers settled onto her scalp, beginning a slow, magical massage that sent her body into a near sleep state of relaxation. She felt the tingling in her scalp spread through her, a  pleasant sensation that grew into pure pleasure. He took his time rinsing her hair thoroughly before his hands dropped to her neck, his fingers massaging every knot and tight muscle. He lifted her arm out of the water to begin using his strong fingers to ease the tension from those muscles as well.

She closed her eyes and allowed him to draw her head back until it rested against his chest as he lifted her other arm and began that slow, soothing massage.

“I’ll get you wet,” Asha whispered, her voice low, musical, soft.

"I don’t mind,” Kili said, and though she could not see him, she could feel the smile that was spread across his lips. He brought his mouth to her shoulder where her neck slopped to back. “Ori told me that you think you’ve lost your wolf.”

Asha nodded. “I’m terrified, Kili. I’ve had the wolf for my whole life it seems, and now she’s just . . . it’s not like she’s gone.” She admitted, thinking hard. “But it’s like there is a wall of ice between me and here. A wall so thick that I can neither see nor hear her, but I know she’s there . . .”

His arms circled her, just under her breasts, and he held her close. “Ice melts, galad. You will find your wolf again. And then you’ll probably never shift back.”

Asha laughed at this, her ribs contracting oddly under Kili’s arm, and he swept her wet hair aside and brushed a kiss along her neck.

Without another word he lifted her into his arms, stepping back away from the tub. She opened her mouth to protest. The water had been a cocoon of heat. But there was something relentless in his expression. The lines were etched deep. His eyes were a deep brown that seem to shift and whirl between freshly tilted earth and the sweet milk coco that Asha was so fond of making during the winter months, and there was a hint of possession there that she felt secretly thrilled about.

He set her on her feet in front of him, produced a soft towel from some unknown source, and began to gently rub the droplets of water fro her body. She found herself unbearably shy all over again. He was slow and methodical, taking his time, using the corner of the towel to rub her arms dry, and then he suddenly leaned in and flicked a drop of water from the tip of her breast with his tongue. She jumped as streaks of fire rushed to the juncture between her legs, setting off a spasm of need. His mouth moved to her neck, his tongue lapping at the skin, his teeth nipping lightly until she felt that her legs would no longer support her.

“Kili.” She whined, shivering, not from the cold, but from his touch.

“Hmmm?” Kili hummed before allowing his teeth to scrap across her pulse. Abruptly he went to his knees before her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t find breath. What was Kili doing? He looked up at her with eyes darkened with desire, and her heart clenched hard in her chest. There was something so compelling in the way he looked at her. He leaned forward and captured droplets of water running down her hip right over a jagged, pale wound that had long since healed.

Asha cried out, the shock of his mouth on her sending waves of heat through her body. The brush of his hair against her thighs sent a thousand streaks of arousal burning through her legs so that she might have fallen if she hadn’t gripped his shoulders. He felt solid, like the rock that so many thought Dwarves to be made of.

His hands spread her thighs. He didn’t say a word, simply positioned her with his hands. His breath touched her first. The sound of her heart seemed to echo through the room. His fingers brushed over her entrance, teased at her lips for a few moments before his palm covered her mound. His fingers moved over her, rubbing, flicking, moving, until she couldn’t stop squirming, her body growing hot from something other than the heat of the water she had sat in. Asha closed her eyes, trying to breathe through the exquisite pleasure and the next moment his mouth was over her, his tongue lavishing against her like his fingers had done only seconds before, instantly sending her over the edge.

Kili supported her as he continued to lick and suckled, allowing her to ride out her pleasure until she was whimpering from the sensation.

“Kili . . . please . . . want you.” Asha cried, her fingers threading through his hair.

“Who am I to deny my woman?” Kili grinned, lifting her up so that she was in his arms, where she stayed until he leaned forward, laying her back onto the bed with a gentle care. His hands cupped her breasts. Her stomach muscles bunched as he began a slow, gentle massage, and this time there was oil on his hands. Her heart pounded, drawing his attention to her accelerated pulse. Asha’s eyes fluttered closed when he tugged and rolled her nipples between his finger and thumb. He left behind a minty oil that began generating heat at the very tips of her breasts.

“Does this feel good, Asha?” Your body . . . it is perfection . . . you are so very responsive, and that is so . . .”

He bent his head and the long fall of silky dark hair spilled over her chest, teasing her senses as he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth. She heard herself whimper, a soft, breathy sound that came close to a plea. He cupped both breasts, turned his head and found her other, woefully neglected nipple and drew it into his mouth, giving her left breast the same, unhurried loving attention. The pleasure was so intense that she shook, her hips moving restlessly.

His fingers slipped lower to her mound, massaged ever so gently, stroked lightly over her damp sex. Kili loomed over her nude body, completely clothed, and she found the situation even more arousing, especially when his heavy-lidded gaze drifted so possessively over her. She could see that he was hard and thick and ready for her.

His hands dropped to her thighs and spread them further, lifting them over his arms. He leaned over her, forcing her legs higher, giving him better access. His erection brushed against her sensitive, pulsing entrance, and she cried out and he sunk deep her back arching. He bent and took her mouth for a brief, heart-stopping moment, and then he began to move, a slow, long slide that had every nerve ending along her body rippling with sensation. Fire streaked through her and Asha gasped, her eyes widening in shock.

He pulled back and surged forward, harder, faster, the friction sending lightning arcing over her. She dug her nails into his shoulders, attempting to find a way to anchor herself in the building maelstrom of burning heat. His body moved again and she gasped.

“You are so tight, Asha,” Kili whispered, his lips ghosting over hers as he shuddered against her, his breathing harsher than before, and each time she rose to meet him, his hard hands encouraged her. It felt so good, those long, deep strokes of searing fire. She didn’t want them to stop, yet she feared to burn alive if they didn’t. His first gentle strokes gave way to a harder, faster, pounding rhythm that took her breath and sent her climbing higher than she imagined possible.

He plunged deep and she cried out, a low, almost mewling sound The pressure grew and grew, never letting up as he merged more deeply as he lost all control. Heat spread through her body, a blazing fire that rushed through her veins. Tension stretched her nerves to a breathing point - and beyond - until she strained for release, tears running down her face, the firestorm consuming her. And always he drove into her, velvet over steel, between her thighs, riding her hard, penetrating so deep.

The fierce pace continued over and over until she could only gasp, apprehension filling her, her body no longer her own. She twisted helplessly, writhing beneath him, her head thrown back, while he held her pinned, his body taking her higher and higher. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound emerged. Every one of her senses was concentrated between her thighs, centered on the thick, hard force driving deep into her body over and over again.

Streaks of fire grew and the tension coiled tighter as the frenzied pounding drove deeper still. Kili. His name was a keening cry in her chaotic mind.

“Let go for me.” He coaxed, and she realized that she had spoken out loud.

She opened her eyes and looked at his beloved face. The lines of lust and love carved so deep, the sensuality and fierce intent in his eyes, the perfect mouth, and those hard hands gripping her so firmly. The long hair falling around his face like that of a rising warrior.

He moved just slightly and the friction against her most sensitive spot send her mind reeling with pleasure. She gasped, stiffened, her gaze locking with his as her entire body tightened around him, clamping down almost violently, gripping and milking while sensation after sensation tore through her body. Her orgasm burned through her core, out of control, flaming through her stomach, spreading up to her breasts and down her thighs. She screamed low as he swelled even more, and he emptied himself. She could feel the scorching heat, every nerve ending alive with pleasure.

Kili collapsed over the top of her, struggling for breath, holding her tight, her legs still trapped over his arms, his body still locked with hers. The moment he had the strength, he gathered Asha in his arms and rolled over, bringing her on top of him like a blanket, her head on his chest, ear over his pounding heart.  They lay like that together for a long moment and then, almost without warning, Asha began to chuckle.

“As nice as this has been, I think that we both could use a bath now.” She whispered, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

“Nice? That’s all you have to say? That it was nice?” Kili exclaimed in mock outrage, rolling so that she was beneath him once again. “I must have done something wrong.”

Smiling seductively, Asha glanced up through her lashes. “Well, I suppose you’ll have to tell me how I should describe it.”

“I could, but I’d much rather show you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:   
> My love - Men lananubukhs  
> My One - Men valaki  
> Lass or girl / Shy lass or girl - Aiteag  
> My heart - Men cridhe  
> Good girl / Brave girl - Galad


	45. Chapter Forty Four - The Desolation of Celebration

“Bloody hell, do you two plan on coming out at any point today?” Nori growled, pounding on the door. “There’s a feast startin’ and Thorin wants you both -”

Asha flung open the door just as Nori rose his fist to pound upon it once more, and she watched with quiet amusement as Nori went beet red, his eyes wide. Over his shoulder, Asha could see Ori smiling.

“You look lovely, Asha.” Ori complemented, refereeing to the dress Kili had brought her earlier that afternoon. It was a simple thing, the color of fresh cranberries, with long sleeves and a skirt that brushed against the ground. Her hair was pulled away from her face in a messy braid that coiled around itself before bunching at the nape of her neck. The only bit left down was the courting brain that Kili had threaded through her strands behind her right ear.

“Thank you, Ori.” Asha smiled, curtsying in a mock attempt to appear a lady. “And for your information, Nori, Kili has gone ahead with Fili to the feast. He said that there was something he needed to do.”

“Did he now?” Nori frowned for a moment before holding out his arm. “Well, no matter, Ori and I will escort you to the feast.”

Laughing and chattering as they bounded down the long staircase, Asha followed after Nori and Ori, her skirt hindering slightly. It wasn’t until they reached the hall the feast was taking place in that Asha finally dropped the hem and looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. It was clear that the Master of Lake Town had spared no expense. They stood in a large Hall, the doors thrown wide open and leading to a great courtyard where dozens of lanterns had been strung from one side to the other like a canopy of stars. The lights glinted off the dark, rippling water, making the atmosphere bright and welcoming.

Asha couldn’t be sure how they managed it, but they entered directly after Kili, Fili, and Thorin, with the rest of the Company at their heels. Each member seemed to have been scrubbed within an inch of their life, and they were dressed and braided as if they were attending a grand ball. The Master quickly launched into a speech that no one gave a second ear too, and then the feast began in earnest.

A band struck up a cord, setting a lively tune bounding over the water, people dancing to the beat almost immediately. Others, Asha saw, headed straight for the food laid across the many great tables, and food there was aplenty: roasted birds, whole fish, and basted fowl; black pudding and pie and soups and stew; gravy and potatoes, squash smothered with butter, and vegetables. Bread in every form an fashion sat between each platter, as well as honey and jams. Wine, ale, beer, rum, whiskeys, mulled cider, and a great many other drinks flowed without end.

Asha laughed and ate and danced, passing between one Dwarf to the next, her skirt twirling around her hips as she spun, arms held toward the stars. More than once one of the men of Lake Town came forward, asking for her hand in dance, and she complied, smiling all the while. There was always a drink waiting for her between each dance, and she quickly lost count of how many times she had drained a goblet of wine, but near midnight she was feeling rather like she was floating, her eyes glazed and her cheeks red.

As the night went on, Asha recognized that the feast was becoming more wilder, the music faster, the dancing more sensual, but she didn’t mind. It reminded her of the great feasts of home when someone had delighted upon their name-day, or a holiday was taking place.

At some point she thought she spied Bofur and Bilbo in a shadowy corner, their faces much too near for them to be doing anything other than kissing, but when she looked back Bilbo was dancing with Thorin, and Bofur was laughing uproariously at something Bifur had signed.

The Brothers Ri disappeared at some point in the night, but Asha knew not where they had gone - Dori had spirited both brothers to bed when the party had grown wild - but she wasted no time in worrying over them. They could take care of themselves.

What Dwarves remained - Kili, Fili, and Thorin, Bofur, and Dwalin, she realized, were the only ones left at the feast. Where had the others gone and why hadn’t she noticed them leaving? - gathered at a table still piled high with food and they dug in for the second time that night, drinks passing between hands as they downed pitcher after pitcher. There was a good deal of elbowing and black-slapping between the Dwarves.

“Asha!” Bofur yelled, laughing loudly. “Come up lass, and sing us a song!”

Asha looked up, her gaze unfocused, and realized that Bofur was standing atop the table, which, at some point, had nearly been cleared of dishes. Bofur reached down when she made no move to stand, and lifted up atop the weather-worn wood, her bare feet peeking out from beneath the hem of her skirt as he did so. 

Together, they stomped their feet and spun in circles around the table, Asha belting out lyrics to a lively tune that the band soon took up and the townsfolk stomped their feet and clapped their hands too.

“There’s many an inn dotting the Shire

that serves a lovely brew

From Bywater to Bree they say

you’ll want a pint or two

The finest Stout, or nut-brown ale,

the taste comes shining through–

and if you raise a glass to me,

I’ll drink a toast to you!

 

We’ll have a pint — a pint — a pint

We’ll have a pint of stout

And when we’ve drunk it bottom up,

we all will give a shout — Hurrah!

 

The Ivy Bush, the Green Dragon,

the Pony o’er in Bree

Let’s make the rounds of Hobbit towns

and have a pint or three

A half-a-pint is fine for lads

of less than thirty-three

but I will drink a full with you,

if you will drink with me!

 

We’ll have a pint — a pint — a pint

We’ll have a pint of stout

And when we’ve drunk it bottom up,

we all will give a shout — Hurrah!

 

A toast, a toast, to friend and host

a toast to bonny brew!

We’ll lift a glass to seasons past

and adventures yet to do

We’ll toast each lass that we have met

and some we wish we knew…

and then, at last, we’ll stagger home…

and tomorrow start anew!

 

We’ll have a pint — a pint — a pint

We’ll have a pint of stout

And when we’ve drunk it bottom up,

we all will give a shout — Hurrah!”

The others, during the course of the song, joined Asha and Bofur atop the table and by the time the song ended Asha was hoisted up atop Kili and Fili’s shoulders, their hands around her thighs, keeping her steady even as she swayed.

Grinning from ear to ear, Asha allowed Kili to settle her down on her feet, but they remained atop the table, drinking, and singing, making a noise that could have shook the stars down from the heavens.

She was just about to clamber down from the table when she noticed Nori stalking through the crowd, Ori close behind, both heading straight for Dwalin.

“What’s going on there?” She wondered out loud, and a moment later her question was answered.

Nori pulled back his fist before Dwalin could even properly turn to the sound of his name, and a second later he slammed it forward with enough force to knock Dwalin from the table. Nori helped him along by grabbing hold of Dwalin’s shoulders and slamming his knee into the much larger Dwarf’s stomach.

Asha swayed as the others rushed to Dwalin’s aid, her eyes wide and dark in her face.

“What the Mahal’s name is going on?” Thorin growled, standing between the two, a hand on each of their chests.

“This . . . this __gruagagh__ kissed my sister!” Nori yelled, pointing a finger at Dwalin and Ori, who were brilliantly red in the face.

The Dwarves stared between Dwalin and Ori, eyebrows raised, not saying a word, and then, finally -

“Ori is a girl?” Asha all but screeched, scrambling down from the table, her eyes narrowed. “Since when in Mahal’s name has Ori been a girl?”

Ori burst out laughing, shaking her head. “Since when have you started cursing like a Dwarf, Asha?"

Asha shook her finger through the air, frowning. "Don't you dare try to change the subject."

"I’ve always been a girl, Asha.”

“But . . . but . . . but you bathe with all the others!” Asha cried, gesturing wildly. “And you . . . you . . .” Asha stared at Ori, really stared at him, and noticed for the first time how feminine his features appeared, how slender his waist was, how long his lashes were. “. . . you’re a girl.”

Several of the Dwarves laughed, but Nori didn’t seem to think that the situation was very funny at all. He opened his mouth to spout off more insults, but Asha quickly cut him off.

“Nori, all they did was kiss, right?”

Nori scowled. “Yes, but this infernal -”

“Well, that doesn’t seem like such a big deal then, does it?” Asha reasoned, eyebrows drawn together as she tried to sting one thought to the next. “I mean, after all, Kili and I kiss quiet often, and no one goes attacking him. And it should be Ori’s choice who she kisses, shouldn’t it?”

Nori fell silent for a moment, but his expression was livid. Asha opened her mouth to speak again, but Nori quickly cut her off. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” He growled, stalking forward and taking her upper and dragging her closer. “You think you know all there is to know, and nothing else could be different, don’t you?

“Nori, I -”

“Shut it!” Nori growled, shaking her.

Asha’s mouth shut with an audible snap, tears filling her eyes and cutting salty tracks down her cheeks and, suddenly, Nori seemed to realize what he was doing. 

“Mahal, Asha, I’m so-”

He never had a chance to finish his apology. Kili lunged forward, his fist snapping against Nori’s jaw as he dragged Asha behind him protectively. “Don’t you touch her,” Kili growled, all traces of drunkenness gone from his features, “because next time, I’ll break your hand.”

Asha stared between the Dwarves, to the men of Lake Town, and back the Dwarves before she rubbed violently at her cheeks, trying to scrub away her tears.

“I think . . . I think I’ve done enough damage for tonight. I’m going to bed now.” Asha said, jerking from Kili’s grasp, and before any of them could say anything, she was racing back toward the steps that led to their rooms.

“Asha! Asha, wait!” Nori cried, moving as if he might follow after, but Kili darted forward, grabbing him by the back of his tunic and wrenching him away.

“You stay away from her, you hear?” He growled, shoving Nori has hard as he was physically possible. “Just . . . stay away.”

And with that he turned on his heel and marched toward the staircase, eyes sweeping the area, clearly looking for Asha who he didn’t find until he actually reached their room - in all honesty, he hadn’t expected her to make it quite so far - where he found her sitting atop the bed, her dress discarded before the doorway, only her face visible from the cocoon she had created around herself with the blankets.

“Asha, are you all right?” Kili asked, attempting to pull the blankets aside.

 “I’m fine, Kili,” Asha whispered, scrubbing a hand across her face. “I just - I want to go to sleep.”

She changed the flow of her sentence before it had even really begun as if she decided at the last minute not to verbalize her thoughts, but she allowed him to draw away the blankets and pull her down so that they were laying atop the sheet, her pressed into his side.

“Don’t worry. Nori was just off his cups.” Kili tried to console her. “But imagine Bilbo’s face in the morning. He’ll be wanting to beat Nori within an inch of his life. Nori might just let him do it too if he remembers what he did.”

Asha laughed, a weak, wet sound that held little mirth, but she relaxed at his words. “I’m not sure that I’m going to remember what he did.”

“Come now, little wolf, go ahead and get some sleep. We’ll be leaving early in the morning, you know.”

Asha nodded blurrily and allowed her eyes to slip shut. They would be leaving early in the morning, and come tomorrow, they would know if their quest would end in glorious victory or fiery defeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs:  
> We’ll Have A Pint - Marc Gunn
> 
> Translations:  
> Ogre - Gruagagh


	46. Chapter Forty Five - The Desolation of Smaug

The next morning dawned bright, and a bit too early for Asha, if she were being honest, the merrymaking of the previous night having finally caught up to her. The fanfare struck Asha like a literal wall, making her visible flinch away as he head began to pound in time with the blasting music. They had all been dressed up in obnoxiously heavy armor, and Asha worried that they might sink halfway across the lake.

Thorin placed a hand upon her shoulder when she moved to step aboard the boat the people of Lake Town had lent them, a weary from upon his face. “Are you up to the trek?” 

Asha nodded, although the action cost her a second, harsher, wince of pain. “I can keep up as well as I ever have. I just might throw up along the way.” She attempted to joke, but it fell short as her stomach rolled and she realized that she might actually throw up at some point to the mountain.

Thorin nodded and allowed her to board, where she immediately found a spot between Bilbo and Ori.

“Where is Bofur?” Bilbo called out, counting heads.

“If he’s not here by the time we are to push off, he’ll be left behind., Thorin stated, but there was no malice in his words, only the duty of a King to his homeland.

“We’ll have to, if we’re find the door before nightfall, we can risk no more delays.” Balin sighed heavily, glancing about the dock as if the missing Dwarf would suddenly appear.

“We’ll find him, Uncle.” Kili offered, pressing a swift kiss to Asha’s forehead as he and Fili leaped from the boat. “I think I saw him sleeping under the table at the hall the feast was held at last night.”

Thorin turned quickly, but it was too late. Fili and Kili had both disappeared into the crowd, Oin following behind after them rather quickly, a mutter of tending to the injured on his lips.

The Master stood at a podium then, waving at the wildly enthusiastic crowd. “And now, with our goodwill, and our good wishes And may your return bring good fortune to all!”

Men standing along the dock used long poles to push the boat away from the landing, and Asha frowned. “Wait, what about Kili and the others?”

Thorin shook his head. “We can not delay further. They will have to come after when they are able.”

Asha watched the docks as they continued down the channel, her eyes brimming with tears when she saw Bofur, Fili, and Kili running up the path, each one clearly searching for the Company.

“Asha!” Kili yelled, his voice carrying on the wind.

Rising to her feet, ignoring the unsteady rock of the boat, Asha cupped her hands around her mouth and bellow, “Find us at the mountain. At the mountain, Kili!”

Kili nodded, showing that he had understood and then they rounded a corner and they were out of sight.

“Don’t worry about him.” Ori offered. “They’ll catch up soon.”

Asha nodded, a strange look in her eyes as she settled back into her spot. “I’m not so sure about that, Ori.”

It took little more than an hour to reach the far shore, and from there they found a wide trail that may have once been a road, but it was so encroached upon by nature that it was hard to tell. They followed it up into the foothills of the Lonely Mountain for as long as they were able, but they path quickly faded into nothing and they were forced to trudge onward using the best path they could find within the rocks and twisting brambles. Even so, they reached what appeared to be the charred, crumbling ruins of a city shortly before noon, and Asha felt Bilbo slip his hand into hers as they stared across the valley.

“It’s so quiet,” Bilbo whispered, and Asha nodded in silent agreement.

“It wasn’t always like this,” Balin said, waving his hand through the air as if gesturing to the quite that surrounded them. “Once, these slopes were lined with woodlands. The trees were filled with birdsong.”

A small bird, a thrush, if Asha wasn’t mistaken, flew past them, and Bilbo watched the bird with a strange sort of curiosity.

“Relax, Master Baggins,” Thorin instructed, clapping Bilbo heartedly on the shoulder. “We have food, we have tools, and we’re making good time.”

Bilbo nodded, but he turned his attention back to the ruined city before him, a frown upon his face. “What is this place?”

“It was once the city of Dale,” Balin explained. “Now it is a ruin. The desolation of Smaug.”

“The sun will soon reach midday.” Thorin fretted before turning and starting towards the path that would lead them to the city. “We must find the hidden door into the mountain before it sets. This way.”

“Wait,” Bilbo called. “Is this the overlook? Gandalf said we were to meet him here, that on no account were we too -”

“Do you see him here?” Thorin retorted, and Bilbo blinked, clearly at a loss. “We have no time to wait upon the Wizard. We’re on our own. Come!”

The others started after him quickly, but Asha and Bilbo lagged behind a bit, a worried frown marring both their faces.

“We should wait for Gandalf,” Bilbo muttered rebelliously.

Rubbing her arms to ward off the chill that was growing in the air, Asha nodded. “I know, but there’s little we can do about it now, is there? Come on, we should hurry before we get left behind.”

They reached the gates of Erebor within a short order and the search went up almost instantly, each hole, crevice, and unnatural formation instantly being looked upon. Even so, it was late in the afternoon before Bilbo and Ori called the others up to a high, rocky shelf. They were both righteously excited, and the moment Asha climbed atop the ledge she understood why. Bilbo was pointing to a flat expansion of unblemished stone.

The Dwarves set upon the wall with a fever, with hammer and ax, Nori tapping away quickly, which left Bilbo and Asha to look on, eyes downcast. Finally, after many hours of kick and bashing at the stone, the sun winked beneath the horizon, the sun slowly dimming from fiery red to a pale pink as the Dwarves looked on in disbelieve.

Thorin turned to Balin, eyes suspiciously wet. “What did we miss? Balin?”

“We’ve lost the light.” Balin sighed. “There’s no more to be done. We had but one chance. Come along lads. It’s over.”

Bilbo protested, but there was nothing to be done. Thorin shook his head weakly, unable to meet his gaze as he followed after the others, the map fluttering in the wind as he pressed it against Bilbo’s chest.

“No! No! It can’t be.” Asha snatched up the map, looking desperately from the runes she couldn’t read to the blank wall, as if they might tell her what they were missing.

Bilbo, meanwhile, paced back and forth, repeating a poem again and again.

“Stand by the gray stone when the thrush knocks,” He whispered, rubbing at his forehead. “And the setting sun, with the last light of Durin’s Day will shine upon the keyhole.”

“But there’s no sun.” Asha pointed out.

“I know that.” Bilbo snapped, tugging at his hair. “I know that.”

Asha looked to the sky, where a few scraggly clouds drifted by, and then, without warning, the moon appeared behind the clouds, the silvery light flooding the ledge.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Asha turned and found the same thrush from that afternoon standing upon a stone, knocking a snails shell into the smooth wall. A dull crack echoed through the air, causing the bird to take flight, and there, in a cleft in the stone that hadn’t been there a moment before, was a keyhole the size of her palm.

“The last light!” Bilbo gasped, pointed. “The keyhole! Come back! Come back!” He screamed to the Dwarves. “It’s the last light - the last light of Autumn!”

“Where’s the key?” Asha cried, spinning in circles, searching for a hint of silver that might let her know where Thorin, in a fit of despair, had dropped the key that led into the mountain. “Where’s the - oh!”

The foot of her boot connected sharply with the key and sent it bouncing across the ledge, and for a heart-stopping moment, she thought it would fall to the valley below, but at the last second Thorin’s boot came down upon the string that had held the key as a necklace for so long, stopping its flight.

Asha watched in surprised fascination as Thorin pressed the key into the keyhole, and then pushed forward a solid block of stone that seemed to grow a seam and disentangle itself from the remainder of the wall.

The smell that rushed from the now open doorway was unlike anything Asha had ever breathed before and she coughed for a moment, trying to take in some other scent that might drive away the one coming from the Lonely Mountain.

“Erebor.” Thorin breathed.

Balin walked forward unsteadily, looking for all the world like he might burst into tears at any moment.

Allowing the others to herd her in, Asha stared about the stone hallway as Thorin spoke.

“I know these walls.” He said, emotion clear in his voice. “These Halls. This stone. You remember it, Balin? Chambers filled with golden light?”

“I remember,” Balin responded, tears trickling down his cheeks.

As Asha and Bilbo wandered in, Gloin looked over their heads.

“Herein in lies the seventh kingdom of Durin’s folk. May the Heart of the Mountain unite all Dwarves in defense of this home.”

Asha followed his gaze and found a beautifully carved scene above the hidden-doorway.

“The Throne of the King,” Balin explained softly, taking note of Asha and Bilbo’s bewildered stares.

“And what’s that above it?” Bilbo asked softly.

“The Arkenstone,” Thorin whispered, staring hard. “That, Master Burglar, is why you are here.”


	47. Chapter Forty Six - The Desolation of Burglary

Asha and Bilbo stood with Balin in a dusty, stone corridor, both with astounded expressions on their face. 

“You want us to go down there and steal a jewel?” Asha repeated, eyes narrowed as if she couldn’t quite figure out if Balin was trying to pull their leg or not.

“A large, white jewel, yes.” Balin nodded his head.

Bilbo seemed to be in a state of shock. “That’s it? Only, I imagine there’s quite a few down there.”

“There is only one Arkenstone,” Balin informed them both. “You’ll know it when you see it.”

“Right.” Bilbo turned and rolled his eyes at Asha, who was staring after Balin worriedly as he continued on down the corridor.

Balin stopped just before an open doorway that seemed to lead to a room that was filled with a pale, glowing light. “In truth, I do not know what you two may find down there.” Bilbo and Asha both exchanged anxious glances. “You needn’t go if you don’t want to. There’s no dishonor in turning back.”

Asha snorted in a very un-lady-like manor, thinking back to the screaming match she and Thorin had gotten into before she had been allowed to accompany Bilbo to the dragon’s lair, and Bilbo quickly shook his head.

“No, Balin, I promised I would do this, and I feel that I must try,” Bilbo said, staring off at the pale glow.

Balin began to chuckle lowly. “It never ceases to astound me.”

Bilbo turned and threw a puzzled expression to Balin. “What’s that?”

“The courage of Hobbits and Changelings alike.” Balin rubbed a tear from his eye and turned back to the doorway. “Go now, with as much luck as the two of you can muster.” 

Asha followed after Bilbo slowly, her footsteps light upon the stone floor as Balin called out to them both to avoid, if he were still alive, waking the dragon within.

Asha felt as if she and Bilbo had been in the treasury for hours, sliding down mountain’s of gold coins, picking through diamonds the size of her fist, ruby’s as large as dinner plates, emeralds larger than anything she had ever seen before, but none seemed especially brilliant or bright or worthy of the attention the Dwarves seemed to give the Arkenstone. It didn’t help that mixed within the coins and jewels were shields and weapons, armor and other such things that were both shiny and bright, things that Asha felt the dragon must have noticed and therefore added to the pile over the years.

“Asha.” Bilbo hissed quite suddenly. “Hide!”

She never got the chance.

“Well, well, well, it has been some time since I have smelled your kind, little Changeling, but I do not recognize your friend’s scent..” A dark, hissing voice informed her from behind, and Asha spun, lost her footing, and rolled down the mountain of coins for a heart-stopping moment before something large and red and __hot__ , curled forward, stopping her progress. “You did not think I wouldn’t notice, did you? Your scents hang heavy in the air, as does the sound of your hearts beating against your ribs.”

The sounds of coins shifting caught her attention and Asha forced herself to look up, only to find that their worst fears were coming true. A dragon the size of the Shire itself rose from the riches surrounding then, its scales reflecting brightly against the shine of the gold.

“Why does your friend linger in the shadows?” Smaug asked, moving forward so that his great eye hovered before her for a heart-stopping moment before he moved on, scanning the treasury with a keen eye. “Well, thief? I smell you. I feel your air. Where are you? Where are you?”

Coin’s began to clatter only feet away and Asha stared. Bilbo was __inviolable__. She couldn’t see him, though she could track his progress through the coins. Smaug, unfortunately, could as well, and he ducked after the Hobbit, slithering through the gold as if he were a serpent wading through water which, in turn, send Asha tumbling atop the coins.

She might have rolled directly past Bilbo if it wasn’t for an unseeing hand reaching out and snagging the back of her tunic, which she had stripped down to early in their hike to the mountain, abandoning the armor along with the others near a stream that had been feed by the snow capping the Lonely Mountain. The hand drug her beneath the shadow of a pillar as Smaug spoke again, his voice echoing like a thousand waterfalls, only much less pleasing to listen to.

“Come, now, don’t be shy. Step into the light.” Smaug coaxed curling around the pillar thoughtfully as Asha moved backward, arms thrown out to either side, protecting Bilbo from the dragon despite the fact she could not see him. “There is something about you. Something you carry . . . Something made of gold, but far more precious.”

Behind her, Asha could feel the air shift and, when she glanced over her shoulder, she found Bilbo panting, something gold glinting between his fingertips.

“There you are,” Smaug breathed, a hint of amusement clear in his voice, “Thief in the Shadows.”

“I did not come to steal from you,” Bilbo chocked out, his voice high pitched and thin, “O Smaug, the Unassessably Wealthy. My sister and I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence. To see if you really were as great as the old tales say. We did not believe them.”

Eyes narrowed, Smaug drew back and turned away, shifting through the gold until he stood to the side. “And do you now?” He roared, spreading out his wings to either end of the treasury, his serpentine neck stretched to its limits, his eyes gleaming in the dim light reflected off the gold.

“Truly, the tales and songs fall utterly short of your enormity, O Smaug the Stupendous.” Bilbo breathed, hastily drawing Asha back, who was staring at the dragon in a dangerous manner, a deep growl echoing from her throat. He drew his eyes away from Smaug, only for a moment, and was shocked to see that her skin appeared ashen as if she would shift at any moment and attack the dragon before them. She had lost her wolf, though. Bilbo had heard her speak of it with Kili. Her wolf had faded from her knowledge, and she could not reach her.

“Oh, I do believe the little wolf does not like that I can see you.” Smaug laughed. “Though it does not matter. She would not hurt me, even if she tired.”

“My sister merely wishes to protect those around her, O Smaug the Great,” Bilbo whispered hurriedly.

“Do you think flattery will keep you alive?”

Bilbo quickly shook his head. “No, no.” He stuttered, hands clasped on Asha’s shoulders tightly.

Smaug snorted. “No, indeed.” He shifted then, climbing over the gold, eyeing Bilbo inquisitively. “I don’t remember smelling your kind before. Who are you, and where do you come from, may I ask?”

Narrowing her eyes in growing horror, Asha glanced about the room as if there would be something to help her and, almost as if she were meant to spot it, her gaze fell upon a jewel the size of a horses heart, as cloudy as an opal, but filled, seeming from the center of its being, with light that shone through in a dazzling array of color.

“I come from under the hill.” Bilbo breathed, following her line of sight and clapping eyes on the jewel.

“Underhill?” Smaug echoed, head tilted to the side.

“And under hills and over hills my path has led.” Bilbo continued nervously. “And - And through the air. I am he who walks unseen.”

Smaug curled his body around a nearby pillar, a throaty chuckle echoing from his toothy mouth. “Impressive. What else do you claim to be?”

Smaug moved so that his mouth hovered only feet away from them, his teeth as long as Asha was tall, and behind her, she could feel Bilbo shaking uncontrollably.

“I am Luck-wearer.” Bilbo all but shouted, a single hand raised from Asha’s shoulder as if to stop the dragon’s approach. “Riddle maker.”

“Lovely titles.” Smaug allowed, mirth clear in his voice. “Go on.”

“Barrel Rider.” Bilbo offered.

“Barrels?” Smaug repeated, drawing back. “Now that is interesting. But what about your little Dwarf friends? Where are they hiding?”

“Dwarves?” Bilbo echoed, shaking his head fiercely. “No. No. No. No Dwarves here. You’ve got that all wrong.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, Barrel Rider.” Smaug hissed. “I can smell them on the Changeling. They sent you both in here to do your dirty work while they skulk about outside.”

As Smaug spoke Asha forced herself to take a step forward, closer to the jewel, but before she could make it more than three steps closer Smaug turned his attention to them once again, a heated glare in his eyes.

“Truly you are mistaken, O Smaug, Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities.” Bilbo denied.

“You have nice manners for a liar and a thief!” Smaug roared. “I know the smell and taste of Dwarf. No one better!”

Breathing deeply, Asha inched forward to the jewel, only giving Smaug only half an ear as he began to rant, his claw sending the jewel flying. Asha allowed Bilbo to push her down the hill of gold as the dragon roared, his shoulder knocking into a pillar and sending it crashing to the ground. Asha and Bilbo tumbled over a short ledge, and cold fell over them bruising her back as she protected Bilbo from the heavy fall.

Together they burst from the gold and hurried down a flight of stairs, running blindly, attempting to escape Smaug at all costs, all while keeping an eye out for the jewel.

“I kill where I wish when I wish!” Smaug roared as Asha and Bilbo tumbled down with the shifting gold. “My armor is iron. No blade can pierce me!”

It was Asha’s quick work of grabbing hold of a stone column, grounding herself and Bilbo beneath a tall walkway. Smaug paced above them, clearly annoyed by their sudden disappearance. “It’s Oakenshield, isn’t it, that filthy Dwarvish usurper! He sent you both in here for the Arkenstone, didn’t he?”

Bilbo hit Asha’s shoulder, nodding toward the jewel they had chased after.

“No. No, no, no.” Asha called, shoving Bilbo forward, toward the stone. “We don’t know what you're talking about!”

“Don’t bother denying it.” Smaug scoffed, curling a claw under the walkway, sending Bilbo scrambling back towards Asha. “I guessed his foul plan some time ago. But it matters not.” Smaug informed them both, crouching down low so that he could see them beneath the walkway. “Oakenshield’s quest will fail. The darkness is coming. It will spread to every corner of the land.”

Asha narrowed her eyes, her mind racing. There was so much that the dragon knew, so much that he __couldn’t__  know, yet he did. But how . . . how . . .

“You are being used, the both of you. You were only ever a means to an end. The cowered Oakenshield has weighed your worth and found it to equal nothing. 

Bilbo looked as if he might speak, might deny Smaug’s words, but Asha leaned forward and clapped a hand over his mouth, frowning sharply. 

“I will not part with a single coin. Not one piece of it!” Asha ignored the dragon’s words and dashed forward, hand outstretched, the jewel only inches away from her fingertips when Smaug curled his tail and lashed out, sending both Hobbit and Changeling flying through the air, the jewel skidding on ahead of them atop the gold coins. “My teeth are swords. My claws are spears.” Smaug continued as Asha and Bilbo came to a rolling stop at the bottom of the golden heap, bruised and, in Asha’s case, sporting a bloody nose, but there, at the left of Smaug’s breast, Asha caught sight of something that made her heart beat stutter. “My wings are a hurricane.”

“So it is true. The black arrow found its mark.” Asha whispered, staring at the spot where no scales protected the skin beneath.

Smaug whipped his head around and glared down at Asha. “What did you say?”

Bilbo quickly stepped forward, his eyes drawn to the jewel which always just seemed to slip from their grasp. “She was just saying that your reputation precedes you, O Smaug the Tyrannical. Truly, you have no equal on this Earth.”

“I am almost tempted to let you take it if only to see Oakenshield suffer. Watch it destroy him. Watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad.” Smaug drew back, eyes narrowed. “But I think not. I think our little game ends here. So tell me, thief, how do you choose to die?”

Between one blink and the next Bilbo disappeared from sight and Smaug drew back, his chest glowing brightly only seconds before a raging fire erupted from his mouth.

And Asha, eyes wide with horror, could not move out of the way in time.


End file.
